


Silver and Gold

by Dragon_Heart_String



Category: Draco Malfoy - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Family-centric (Harry Potter), Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Death Eaters, F/M, Good Draco Malfoy, Gryffindor, Head Boy Draco Malfoy, Head Girl Hermione Granger, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Era, Hufflepuff, M/M, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy, Ravenclaw, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Slytherin, Soft Draco Malfoy, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:13:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 113,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29317677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_Heart_String/pseuds/Dragon_Heart_String
Summary: [Slow Burn Dramione 6th and 7th year] - WIP"From what I hear you swing girls over your knees like newspapers, Malfoy""Draco Malfoy doesn't kiss and tell silly girl"***The House of Black prides itself on their bloodlines being preserved. Those who are nonconforming are cast out. Ideals are upheld under all circumstances ... until the secrets of the family line are revealed, and for once in his life, Draco Malfoy can make a choice.Warnings: fluff, smut (eventually), descriptions of violence, implied mental illness, abandonment
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1: Return to Hogwarts

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: smut (eventually), descriptions of violence/pain, implied mental illness

**_6th Year, September 10th_ **

"Hogwarts, what a pathetic excuse for a school" Draco's voice echoed in the students ears in the tight confines of the train's cubicle. His tone cold and mocking as he recalled his earlier endeavours.

From his side Blaise choked on the black smoke that filled the cabin, knocking Draco away from his remberings.

The explosion was likely caused by one of those Weasley toys: thought Draco. The dreadful things had run rampant throughout the school since fifth year when the inquisitorial squad was enforcing Umpridges ban on wheezes of any sorts. Even with restrictions and outright bans, the redheaded gang of blood traitors found a way to wreak chaos.

"What are you on about Draco?" Pansy asked from across the table, and Draco was thankful she wasn't closer or he'd bet money she would place her rough hand on his shoulder and wink at him.

"Let's just say you won't see me wasting my time in charms next year" he snickered, drawing his attention out the window, and onto the white smog that crowded the train. A protection, he suspected, to hide the students' return to Hogwarts.

"In fact, I'd rather throw myself off the Astronomy tower than return for seventh year!" he whispered to himself. No one seemed to hear him, the rest of the car was too busy clearing their lungs from black smoke and pressing their heads in their hands with worry.

There was a vanishing cabinet at Hogwarts, and Dumbledore still assumed the student body was safe.

There was a direct line from Death Eater Head Quarters, and students as young as 10 were being permitted to enter the grounds (within reason of appearing to safety protocols). Safety was not assumed at Hogwarts, not anymore. But Dumbledore had ensured wizarding society that the castle's crumbling towers offered more protection than their homes would. That was assuming the headmaster knew of its existence, and place of dwelling. Pathetic; he thought. With his luck the headmaster wouldn't be the wiser and he could find it with no attachments or obstacles, and proceed with his mission earlier than expected of him.

He knew what he was looking for, a tall and dark coffin-esque cabinet that on command would transport any occupants or fixtures to Borgin and Burkes. Where, upon arrival, a death eater companion of his fathers would be waiting to receive or advance forwards themselves.

Draco's exposure to Voldemort's inner circle had grown significantly over the summer. With his parents on thin ice after Lucius many failures, the mantel had been given to him to appraise the family name and do right by the Dark Lord. Now his mission was clear, and Draco had to come up with a way to carry it out without being noticed.

He heard the faint mumbles of his friends in the background, but he continued to stare into the smokey void. He felt like someone was watching. Someone was always watching him, but this was different. He felt their presence in his immediate surroundings, not just his head.

The train ride went faster than Draco remembered. He seemed to only have time to avoid Pansy's stare and chat with Theo Nott for a few brief moments about Nott's prefect position before they arrived at the station with a hoot.

He laughed under his breath as he watched some first years some first years through the window struggle with their trunks on the platform.

"Draco, aren't you coming?" her voice felt like a whine in his ear.

"Go on. I have to take care of something". He was firm and she didn't question him.

He shut the car door harshly behind her, rattling the whole train car slightly as he did. With the flick of his wand the curtains snapped shut around him, providing the car with little outside light.

He turned his head slightly to the side without moving his body, and huffed.

"Didn't mummy ever tell you it was rude to eavesdrop, Potter?" He turned sharply to face the rest of the seemingly empty cabin.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw a flicker of movement. Potter.

"Petrificus Totalus" With that Harry's potter slumped loudy onto the train car's floor, still encased in the vanishing blanket.

Draco stalked over to him ,and ripped the cloak away to reveal Potter's frozen body. A picture of mild horror was displayed over his pale, unmoving features, and his green eyes seemed glazed over.

"Hmm" Draco cuffed, kneeling down to be at his eye level. "That should teach you not to hide away like a little coward. I'm sure Godric wouldn't be pleased to know one of his Gryffindor scum was too scared to approach a mere schoolate on a train? I can do whatever I want now".

Draco rose from his kneeling positions to hover over Harry's body. With one more smirk, he stomped the heel of his leather-hide boots into Harry's face with enough force to break his nose and react blood instantly. He knelt once more to re-cover Harry's body with the invisibility cloak, before whisking himself away to the platform with long and unprovoking strides.

"Pathetic" he laughed while looking back at the red steam engine.

***

Dark.

That was how the castle felt.

Dark.

That was how he felt.

The light in the eyes of first years, stumbling forward to get sorted, was nonexistent. As the doors to the grand hall swing open their faces only showed apprehension at the silence that awaited them. Even their heads were hung low. Their innocence and purity stripped away as they entered the gates of the most famous wizard inch school in the European magical community.

One by one they were sorted.

\- Hufflepuff -

\- Gryffindor -

\- Gryffindor -

\- Ravenclaw -

\- Slytherin -

No one cared though, especially Draco.

Heads were filled the impending chaos that was looming over the wizarding world.

The shops on Diagon Alley had closed. For the first time since the first wizarding war, Ollivanders was closed down, and he was operating out of Hogwarts for the benefit of the first years. Everything was dark. Well except for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, Fred and George refused to close the joke shop. Crazy bastards. It remained a shining beacon of hope for the Order of the Phoenix, a golden light in the dreary maze of abandoned buildings.

Many families had chosen not to send their children away this school year. In fact, Draco noted that more than half the Slytherin table was absent, and the only sixth years were himself, Blaise, Pansy, and Theo. Most of the other houses were lacking numbers as well, Hufflepuff seemed to be the only table not half empty.

Typical, thought Draco; Of course the whiny little puffers would sign away their fears, and trust the schools safety measures were a match for the Dark Lord.

Mcgonagall's speech was given in an almost monotone signature. Crisp. Cutting. And Clear.

The smirk she usually favoured has been erased by sleepless nights and worry lines, and her characteristic clean cut posture was slumped.

Her hand twitched at her side out of anxiety. A symptom he knew all too well.

The forbidden forest was forbidden to all. The 3 floor corridor in the left wing was warded shut, and curfews were enacted in any students who were not above the legal age, or had otherwise been given special privileges. It was the same every year.

"Rules are rules," the tired witch concluded, drawing her parchment closed and retreating to the grandmaster at the head of the hall.

Albus Dumbledore didn't even move, let alone rise to address the new and returning students. He was too tired, even the light from his eyes seemed drained of its signature fire.

He was back.

There was no denying it anymore, even the ministry began rallying its Auror's, and speeding the training for new hires. Most departments were converted to war-effort stations with field healers present 24/7 and "death-eater" watch reporters lurking in every corner. They were preparing for war, in more ways than one.

After Potter's little stunt at the hall of prophecies in the Ministry last spring, and the Dail Prophet's front page story of Voldemort's return, the wizarding European society was in complete chaos. The un-equivalent knowledge that a war was rising sat uneasy in everyone's heads, including the pureblood families who followed the Death Eacter codes. Many had been disowned or killed off after Voldemort's last fall, and some were not allowed to region his ranks for fears of disloyalty.

He focussed on new recruits instead. Younger usually, like Draco Malfoy, to carry out the pureblood elitist ideals and do the dirty work for him while he gained enough power to strike.

The dark lord was back and stronger. His essence looked over the castle and it's occupants with an eerie coldness and dark cloud of despair.

Like in third year, Dementors were stationed at nearly every exit of Hogwarts grounds, and the wards were topped by Albus himself to ensure the students' safety. Despite their loyalties being known to fall with the supposed "dark side" of the war, they were sent by the ministry and couldn't be refused without an active incident on the grounds.

He knew it wouldn't be enough. It was Fate that You-Know-Who would penetrate the walls of the castle at some point. His followers were silenced for over a decade, and with recent rallying, they were hungry for revenge on even the littlest members of magical society.

Pity that the little Slytherins would be wrapped up in this mess, even the half-bloods deserved some semblance of a chance; Draco thought to himself before scolding his internal voice that pitied anyone, especially one that wasn't a pureblood.

"Attention! Attention" McGonagels voice cut Draco's thought in half with a sharpened blade.

He scoffed thinking; as if this place wasn't dreadful enough. His mission would surely be compromised or endangered if more restrictions were put on himself and the other students.

Draco's eyes wandered over to the grand table, where McGonagel stood at the Headmasters podium, and Dumbledore looked peckish behind her.

Coward, he thought.

"Due to increasing safety precautions on the school grounds, the headmaster and I have decided to enact a new student position. The prefects and Head Boy and Girl have already been decided. However, the new Senior Prefect position will be awarded at the end of September to two students who show considerable responsibility and conductivity!"

Her voice perked Draco's ears slightly. A new position could mean a new edge to use in his plan. An unexpected twist for a trusted student to turn over. Or it could mean another obstacle for him to avoid in his chosen path, he contracted his own thoughts with the idea.

"The positions will go to a male and female identifying pair from any house, and will be selected from sixth and seventh year levels. The chosen students will work directly under the student heads, and have regular attendance with myself and the headmaster to ensure protocol is being followed and updated as needed."

Draco allowed his attention to be caught. The gears started turning and weaving a path. If this position offered a direct path to the headmaster, he could easily swoop in and create his demise right under his nose. He would be a trustee member of the student body, he could maybe even hide his mission and slip away once he had succeeded.

Although he would never admit it, achieving that standing among the student ranks would boost his pride about 12 notches. He'd always been second. Pureblood was never second; his father had driven that into his head early on. Malfoy's were winners, they were worthy of first places in everything.

But Draco had always come second.

And to a Mudblood of all creatures. Surely she would be pining for the position as well. Hoping to defend her precious Order and acquire additional information to aid in their annoying attempts to dissuade followers from rejoining, and building their own tight knit ranks.

"And Lastly. Due to this position being rather time - consuming and strenuous on the selected individuals, a separate quarter has been arranged for both privacy and quiet needs in the North tower. This part is non-negotiable."

The feast appeared at her departure from the podium, and to his right, Theo began stuffing his face full of great beans as if he'd been starved for months.

Which could be a real possibility with the strict procedures at the Nott estate. Draco couldn't recall a time he'd seen Master Nott smile at his son, not even a mouth twitch when Theo got perfect.

Draco's thoughts sank to his stomach as he recalled Mcgonagel final sentiment. There was the catch. Whomever he was exiled with would grow cautious of his endeavours, and risk exposing his mission. He would need to be careful sneaking around, and devise his schedule to never interact with them, despite only a door as physical separation. His stomach kept falling like an endless pit.

He focussed on the pumpkin pasty that Pansy thrusted into his hands, and ignored her flirty smile and seductive wink as she attempted to look into his eyes.

It wasn't that she wasn't pretty. By any standards Pansy Parkinson was more than decent looking. Her black hair fell halfway down her back, and since 4th year her figure was nothing to sneeze at. But Draco found her as sexually appealing as a door stub in most circumstances, and her advances had grown boring since the conclusion of 5th year.

He fought back a gag as she placed her hand on his thigh. He jerked away instantly and scowled in her direction under his breath, still refusing eye contact with her.

She flinched away, and turned her attention to her own plate. She just started downwards.

Draco started up at the enchanted ceiling. Where he expected to find dark clouds to hover above his head, he found a clear nightfall littered with stars.

Charmed; he thought. The skies were foggy when they had arrived, clearly Dumbledore had thought a stray sky would boost morale. He was mistaken. The mood in the hall was just as dreary as the outside world.

It was still dark. The air, the sense, the facial expressions. All dark and cold, as if the dementors' aura had sunk into the walls, and climbed under peoples skin.

Draco couldn't shake the darkness from him. Despite the growing determined rage in his core, he felt some of the despair sink into him. His hands felt clammy and his through scorched dryly. He felt dark, and cold, and like someone was always watching him.

He was dark.

***

"Serpens Lacum"

The lock clicking was audible through the damp hallway as Draco's command opened the Slytherin common room.

The dungeons were usually wet. Puddles would accumulate in the corners, and the glass ceiling that showed the black lake would usually look like it was about to crack and flood the hallways. Some students came up with ghost narratives, and claimed the souls of old castle holders would haunt the Slytherin rooms on stormy nights. Draco always assumed they were crazy, and it was just stupid over-eager imaginations of half-bloods.But now, with the looming sense of impending doom, he thought that perhaps the ghosts of tortued prisoners were not all that far fetched.

He slid through the arched doorway and into the dungeons that he was forced to call home at Hogwarts. A few second years flew in behind him to avoid needing to re-say the password to the annoyed portrait of Salazar.

Draco stalled in the entryway, there was no fire burning in the fireplace like there usually was, and the typical black and green antique furniture that Draco would routinely crash on felt unfamiliar to him. There was no more warmth associated with this place where he had lived for so many years of his life; only cold feelings of fear and unwavering anxiety.

The worry crept up on him, and the words of his father repeated in his ear.

 _"Your turn"_ \- Quiet voice.

 _"My son will not fail you, my Lord"_ \- it got louder and harsher.

 _"Do right by our family name"_ \- it was like a scream that tore through his head, and made his ear twitch.

The words were like screaming whispers: loud and raspy in his head.

Draco had to think.

He needed a plan to off the headmaster before the year's end in order to appease his father. Those were the terms of his missions to Voldemort. By the end of his school year he had to successfully kill Albus Dumbledore, and find a way to get his Aunt Bellatrix into the castle. Then he could be brought back to the manor and given the dark mark as a reward for his loyalty.

The terms were laid out by his father and enforced on Draco. He had obeyed without question, and hadn't taken into consideration just how difficult it might become to off the old wizard. He was practically a recluse at this point in the war, he hadn't even spoken at the feast, and had disappeared before its close.

Draco had to be around Dumbledore first in order to figure out a way to kill him.If last year was anything to show for it, Dumbledore would hide away in his office, not even allowing the golden Boy, Harry Potter, to see him, let alone suspected death eater Draco Malfoy.

Stupid Potter probablu thinks I'malready one; Draco thought, imagining Harry's face as he confronted Weasly and Granger with his suspensions. Weasley's pea sized brain would likely believe him without a second question. Granger on the other hand had a nasty habit of thinking she could save people, the muggles call it a "Saviour Complex" or at least that's what Draco had been told it was. He wasn't sure if her actions were truly gold-hearted or just an act of desperation at this point.

Mcgonagell's new student position might give him that exposure that he needed. Despite its requirement to share quarters with another student, likely the Gryffindor Mudblood if his suspicions were correct, he needed that edge

He could ward his door so that he would be notified if someone came near it, or tried to open it. But that would only work if the room wasn't already enchanted to allow professors with in and out privileges, which he suspected it would be.

And common areas in the quarters would be accessible to anyone who knew the password.

He had to be awarded the position first, and that meant abandoning his cruel demeanor in favour of a good - hearted facade. If he could trick McGonagel into thinking he was merely ignorant to his family's schemes he might be able to woo the rest of the staff into giving him the spot; and, unintentionally giving him a straight line to Dumbldore's demise.

He needed to devise a plan to make himself appear protective and trustworthy.

He could give first years a tour of the castle before classes begin next week? He'd be damned if he had to play the part of a muggle tour guide to bumbling first years who couldn't tell their wands from their arses. Hell forbid some of the muggle-borns start to trust him, he would be humiliated at home, and lose any standing within his own house.

He thought about tending to the quidditch pitch, but he favoured that he would likely get roped into that task again and again. Especially if he decided to play this year. He wouldn't get a second to himself if he was playing maid.

He needed a way to come across as trustworthy, without compromising his free time or personal agenda.

He couldn't risk exposing himself to the bloody Golden Trio either, they would see right through him and devise a way to imprint their ideas on the headmaster before Draco could act. Potter, the freaking Golden boy and his blood-traitor and Mudblood would spoil anything before it happened if he couldn't get his positions. Perhaps even if he did he would be at a disadvantage if the Mudblood got one as well.

The Mudblood was an interesting angle he could play at. 

He knew he could push her dirty buttons. She had grown angry enough in third year to punch him square in nose, and surely her muggle upbringing wouldn't prepare her for an unexpected magical malition. If he could get Potter and Weasley away from her, and put her in a position that she couldn't solve, perhaps he could be her "hero".

He gagged again.

The thought of coming within a metre of her nearly made him want to off himself instead of him offing Dumbledore. Her dirty blood would waft in his area and taint him surely. He didn't know what he'd do if he was required to work alongside her, and her Order buddies. He would likely rather gauge his eyes out before seeing her and Weasley entangled in the common room's sofa.

She would see it coming too. If he orchestrated it and acted strangely for the time being, assuming she paid a lick of attention not him, She would see right through him and thwart it; he would be second to her once again.

He couldn't be the leader of his little arrangement, not this time at least.

"Blaise, Theo, Parkinson, I need your help".


	2. Chapter 2: The Plan

6th Year, September 11th

"You want us to put Granger in harm's way? So you can swoop in, save her, and get the Senior Prefect position?" Theo Knott stifled a laugh as he spoke. 

"Have you gone mad?" he burst and broke into a low laugh.

Draco sneered in his direction. Theo continued to laugh, doubling over and nearly falling off his armchair at Draco's reaction and absurd ask.

"Blaise. Check his temperature, he's definitely ill, or he's hit his head, and we need to take him to Pomfrey. He wants to be nice to the Mudblood, and he wants to be respected by the professors!" Theo spoke again while elbowing Blaise in the ribs, nudging him forwards to check Draco's head. He didn't move though.

Blaise just started intently confused at Draco. He was studying him. His posture wasn't wavering, Draco still looked fixed on a pize. Draco's mouth was a hard line, his lips were pressed so firmly together they looked almost white under the pressure. He was staring right into Blaises eyes, Blaise noted there was no sign of tenderness, only fastened determination.

Blaise hitched his head forward and looked over to Pansy, who, as expected, had anger written plainly on her face. Then back to Draco, who was unfazed, even slightly annoyed, at Pansy's expression and Theo's uncontrollable laughter still lingering in the background.

Blasie sharply kicked Theo's shins, willing him to shut up for his own good, before Draco would be less nice about it. The last time Theo hadn't taken him seriously there was a quaffle sized bruise on his cheek for weeks. The healing charms even seemed to be immune to Draco's force of throw.

Pansy still looked like she wanted to smother Draco between her narrowed eyes and furiously blushing cheeks.

"I think he's serious, Nott" He said flatley, and Theo stilled at his declaration.

"Wait? What?" He questioned. "Why on earth do you want Senior Prefect? And how does that involve Hermione Freaking Granger? I mean I know she's always been better at school than you, but are you really going to go as far as risk expulsion just to get a position to spite her? That's a bit extreme Draco?"

"Are you daft?" Draco inquiries so plainly it shook Thoe's spine.

"I'm.. I'm.. sorry?" Theo was thoroughly confused, and Pansy shafted in her chair with eager intent to know just what Draco Malfoy intended to do with the Mudblood.

"I told you I had a mission from the Dark Lord, yes? Well acquiring this position gives me a much needed edge. Spiteing Granger is always fun, but this is deeper than that. If she trusts me, I get an in on gryffindor knowledge, and by press, Order secrets" Draco swireed his butterbeer in his cup, leaning casually over the sofa armrest. One leg was propped on the head, and the other placed on the ground. Pasny stared straight at his middle, as he leaned back, and shifted himself.

"What exactly do you want us to do with her?" Pansy snickered, her eyes never moved from Draco's torso. She eyed a small piece of ice-toned skin that peaked through his jumper, and she blushed as Draco noticed and pulled it down.

She was clearly jealous of Granger's impending situation with Draco, whether Draco intended anything of it. Pansy had always been jealous of any girl that Draco put on his arm. Only one time her life did he entertain the idea of being with someone else, and her defence of such was that she was drunk and desperate.

Marcus Flint just happened to be there, and I was too gone off firewhiskey - that was her retaliation when her father interrogated her on the loss of her virtue at the end of fourth year. It wasn't wholly untrue. But even bre a taste of alcohol had touched her tongue he had started to pursue her. That attention was fueled by rage when she caught Draco watching blue and green dresses swirl meticulously around the hall all night. She let herself be taken, in hopes to make him jealous; but it didn't work.

"Well there is a vanishing cabinet at Hogwarts, likely in the Room of Requirement''. His friends leaned in to listen to the rest. "I figure we give her a scare, put her in it and bring her back real quick. Pansy and Theo can distract her little companions. Blaise can knock her out and put her in. Then I'll come in, get her out, and report you guys to Mcgonagell".

"But won't we get expelled then'', Pansy crossed her arms as she questioned the plan, If Draco was covering his tracks, did that mean he was willing to sacrifice his friends in the process of getting victory? She wondered to herself, hoping for another option, but also knowing he could be cruel if he intended too. Expelling his friends wouldn't be solely out of character if it meant protecting his own ass.

"Again, Are you daft?" He nearly yelled this time. "If I'm reporting you I can report whatever I want. I'll just say you pushed her into the Room of Requirement and locked her in, the old bat will never know, and Granger will just think you were dealt with appropriately".

He shifted again so that he was sitting up, feet placed on the ground and his elbows in his ribs. He looked stoic, like he was hardened by the war that hadn't even had a battle yet.

"And how do you suppose we distract Potter and Weasley then? It's not like we can seduce them" Nott snickered while giggling.

"I still have to figure that out, you could hold them in the Great Hall with quidditch questions. I'm sure they would fall for you guys not knowing a lick about the game. Good Galleons it's nearly the morning." He stood, collecting his empty class from the table and plucking Pansy's from her grasp.

"You sleep on it darling, figure out if you can manage a composed thought to help me" He knelt at her level and stared into her eyes, with one hand on her shoulder.

He was playing her like a fiddle, and she didn't seem to notice. She reached her hand forwards to cup his wrist, and he moved away, turningto Blaise and Theo.

"I'm gonna do something whether you help or not, but this way you'll get some credit when I complete my mission and give my statement to the Dark Lord". He stated calmly. Blasie nodded and Theo simply looked back between him and Blaise, knowing he wasn't gonna get out of this.

"If you give me a week, I can brew a temporary shifting potion that will turn everyone's noses into animals. While the chaos is going on me and Pansy can distract Potter and Weasley and Balise can get the Mudblood to the potions rooms with the idea of brewing a cure before he stuns her." Nott gave his suggestion while looking at the floor.

He had all the ingredients to brew a temporary shifting potion, his father had given them to him in the event the Dark Lord tasked him with his own mision while he was at Hogwarts. Nott had hoped he would save it for a time where he would be called forwards, especially a time that didn't have to deal with Draco's ego.

"Now we're talking Nott!" Draco laughed at his begrudging proposition, and patted him on the back as he began his way to his room. "You lot think about a way to distract Weasley and Potter by next weekend. We need to do this before Mcgonagel has a chance to consider any other students."

He left his friends looking confused in a huddle by the sofa. He heard their whispers of worry in the background, but his own thoughts drowned them out once he was alone.

Was this too much? He wondered. Snape had offered to give him aid over the summer when he unexpectedly arrived at Malfoy Manor. Or, rather it was unexpected to him, his mother seemed to have arranged the ordeal behind his father back while he was being summoned.

Snape was uncharacteristically kind, though his voice still held its firm tone when he offered any assistance Draco could want. He might as well have asked to do it for him, if he didn't know the life sentence that would provide him. All that really came from the conversation was that Draco was to report to Snape's office every Friday for progress updates; it was unclear if that was the Dark Lord's will or his mother's.

Draco made his way through the damp common room, past the younger year dorms and up the spiraling staircase to the 5th to 7th year rooms. It still felt colder than he remembered, and the steel stairs creaked slightly under his weight as he ascended to the second level where the 6th year boys slept. The room would be empty except for him and his friends, he thought as he remembered how little students had come to Hogwarts this year.

Even if he failed at getting the Senior Prefect position, hiding his mission wouldn't be difficult, but the execution would remain stubbornly impossible. Even his father voiced opinions that Draco would have some difficulty getting close to his headmaster.

It was worth it, he decided. Potentially risking expulsion if the plan went haywire was worth it. Then at the very least it showed his dedication, and he could use the Vanishing Cabinet to get in and out after that. Getting close to Dumbledore would be an advantage definitely, but his mission could be done without it.

As he lay flat on his bed, he stared up at the ceiling. The previous enchantment of the sky was gone, now the brick started blanket back at him, and lacked any distraction from his thoughts like what he hoped for.

The Mudblood would get a good scare that's for sure, but would she see through it? Would she be suspicious that his friends hadn't been expelled? Maybe she wouldn't even realize she was in a vanishing cabinet? He scoffed to himself as he let his thoughts run wild in his head.

The screaming whispers of his father returned.

"You have enough time to get under his skin" - it was louder than before.

"Just do as you are told" - He felt the twitch in his ear return as the noise caused a searing pain behind his eyes.

He rolled over sharply and buried his painfully throbbing head into his pillow, willing the noise to clear as he let himself be lulled into sleep

***

6th Year, September 13th

The weekend flew by far too quickly for Draco's liking.

They spent the majority of the weekend before the years beginning in the dorms, only really leaving for meals and mandatory assemblies. Otherwise they were helping Theo bew the temporary shifting potion in the Slytherin boys bathroom. They went faster than Theo anticipated, and by sunday evening they were nearly finished. All that was left was adding the animal's hairs to the brew in descending order of largest to smallest.

Pansy kept remarking that the position seemed too similar to polyjuice, which typically took over a month to brew. She was skeptical of its accuracy and safety after Blaise suggested they all take it as well as to not draw any suspicions there way.

"Don't be absurd Pansy, it's not Polyjuice. It isn't reversible without intervention and it tastes like nothing. If you ask me, that's an improvement" Theo kept confirming.

He was right, it wasn't as sophisticated as Polyjuice Position and therefore it didn't have a time limit, and had to be reversed with an antidote. Theo had one already, and planned to put it into a vial and send it out as mist into the hall once they had lured Granger out.

They decided to release the antidote as a way to level their punishment. If they indicated that the stunt was merely a joke to boost student morale, they wouldn't risk anything worse than detention. The involvement with the Mudblood meant their punishment would be harsher if the professors suspected ill intentions.

When the sun's rays peaked through the sliver of glass they called a window, Draco growled and slumped further into his mattress. He heard Theo wrestle Blaise out of his covers, and Draco flinched at annoyance when Blaise threw his tie at him, trying to force him up.

Getting up meant classes starting, which meant putting on the facade of being nice in order to get the Senior Prefect position. Worst of all, it meant being tolerable of the Mudblood and everyone with similar blood taints and status'. At least he only had 2 classes this term. Snape had negotiated private tutoring with him, so he only had potions and charms. If his inkling was right, then Granger would also have those classes.

"Get up you white arse ferret" Nott yelled as he descended down the stairs with Blaise.

It took him about 20 minutes more, but he made his way up and to the hallway. He walked right past the Great Hall and to the staircase corridor. They planned to execute their stunt tomorrow, which meant Draco had to secure the location of the vanishing cabinet, and test if it worked.

Up three flights of stairs to the west wing Draco placed his hand on the wall in the second hallway and murmured: "I need the place where the lost things go".

At the release of his hand from the stones, a thin brass door appeared, with a diamond shaped knob at its centre. Since Potter and his so-called Dumbeldore's Army had used the room last year, and the location was no longer as secretive as it once was, the room was now used for basic storage.

He looked left and right and whispered, "Homenum Revelio". He felt the slight gust of the spell's wind as it searched for any human or magical presence in the hall.

No one was revealed with the spell and he continued.

"Alohomora", he spoke louder this time, after he had ensured the corridor was empty, secrecy wasn't needed. The knob turned under his wand, and the door opened with a slight creak. With one more observance of his surrounding, he slipped inside, closing the heavy door behind him.

The piles of old books and trinkets towered several feet over his head. Most of them were covered in layers of dust and cobwebs, and they looked like they had been there for decades, not the mere months that were the reality.

"History of Magic, Dated 1860"; "History of Magic, Dated 1900"; "Magical Bloodlines: the Four Founder's"; "The Sacred 28, Dated 1930". They seemed to be old textbooks, out of date with the curriculum, and no longer useful except for strategic research purposes. He took note of their contents, in case his mission required more research than he intended.

There were few large, light wooden armoires in one section of the room .They sported the Hufflepuff crest burned into the front drawers, and had indistcue vine paintings on the sides, likely done by past students.

And then, he spotted it. Tucked underneath a silk cloth in the far back corner of the room. He noticed the pointed head, through the piles of books, and the dark black carvings on the bottom edges.

The Vanishing Cabinet.

Draco approached it hesitantly, he wasn't sure if anyone would come rushing out of it once he muttered to spell, or if the spell would even work if he cabinet was inside Hogwarts Grounds now that it had so many anti-apparition and anti-incoming wards in place.

Yanking the silk drape off of it, the accompanying dust cloud made him cough, before he was able to take in the dark object in front of him. It was taller than anything else in the room, even the other armoires.

It felt like there was an aura to it, that the darkness he sensed in the castle on the first night was congregating around it.

Draco heard the whispers in his head again, and his ear twitched sharply as he took a step closer and reached his hand out to touch the painted wood.

Dark.

He felt dark again, as his finger bruised the curves of the wood and reached for the handle. It opened with another short puff of dust, this one not substantial enough to inflict a cough, and Draco was shocked to find the inside plain. At least in contrast to the outside, the inside wasn't even painated, it was the original wood. Perhaps the paint interfered with the magic: he thought as he brushed the worry away.

He plucked one of the books from the top of a small stack beside him to use as a testing object, not even bothering to look at its contents. Placing it in the cabinet and closing it in one movement he pulled his want from his robes and placed it against the wood of the outside.

"Harmonia Nectere Passos". His father had him memorise the spell even before he had officially been given the mission. When me messed it up, he expected the water to be poured over his head, soaking his robes fully.

He opened the door tenderly.

It wasn't there. It actually worked. Draco had heard about it, but never actually though the wards would allow anything to pass through, even through the cabinet. Dumbldore really must not know it exists, or that it is here, clearly he wouldn;t be that stupid to think the students in the castle were safe if he knew that something could penetrate the protective measures put in place. 

He closed the door again quickly and muttered to spell again to return the book.

"Harmonia Nectere Passos"

It came back.

In the exact position Draco had placed it in, which meant nobody on the other side had noticed the cabinet's contents, or tampered with it. He stood frozen for a moment in shock

He plucked the book out and placed it back on a stool. He closed the cabinet and retreated from the Room of Requirement with a smug look on his face, and a fast pace to his steps.

He made his way through the halls, and to the potions room back inside the dungeons, where he had his first class.

***

Professor Slughorn was late on the first day, for the first class he would teach at Hogwarts this year. Typical, if you were to ask Snape. Draco has pried some information from him while he was at the Manor about his new Potions Instructor. All Snape had hinted at was that he was less than punctual, and played favourites. Draco thought it rather creepy when Snape recalled Slughorn's cabinet of photographs of his "exceptional students".

When he finally arrived, several moments later, with Potter and Weasley in tow. He barely acknowledged the other students, instead favouring getting the other late attendees their textbooks.

Draco took the opportunity to scour the classroom from familiar faces. It was mostly an excuse to ignore Pany's incessant talking, and attempts to hold his hand.

He spotted Seamus and Neville, and wondered how the hell those two Gryffindor wannabees managed to get it. If he remembered correctly the irish one had been blowing stuff up since day one, and Neville could barely read the instructions, let alone prepare accurate recipes in previous years. If Slughron really allowed those two bumbling idiots, this class could end up being a bigger joke than even Draco anticipated.

Theo and Nott were engaged in a nearly silent conversation behind him, likely about the position they were brewing the dormitory.

Romilda vane looked just as desperate for Harry, as Pasny looked at Draco. He smirked slightly at the poor witch, knowing Potter was failing at hiding his affection for Weaslye's little sister. Vane would surely get her heart broken the second the female Weasel dropped Dean Thomas.

He almost pitied her, the way he almost pitied Pansy at times.

Then he spotted Granger. She was engaged in a conversation with a girl Draco had never seen before. She was short, and blonde, and sported Hufflepuff robes. Of course she's making friends with a talkative Hufflepuff: Draco thought. Mudbloods of course would befriend other Mudbloods, he assumed the girl was a muggle -born witch, after all most of Hufflepuff's were.

When Slughorn finally returned with Poter and Weasel, Draco nearly burst out laughing at Weasley's expression. He looked ruffled, like Potter had secretly beaten him up in the past 45 seconds, yet he still looked proud of himself.

"Alright everyone gather round" Slughorn's voice pierced through the damp air in the potions room, "take a big whiff, and tell me if you notice anything".

Draco expected to inhale a nose full of damp air that contained the lingering odour of mold. Needless to say, he was heavenly surprised to be greeted with scents that made his spine shiver, and his insides warm.

He identified them as: Burning wood, butterbeer, and a strange honey and soap scent, possibly a cleaning product or perfume scent that he couldn't quite attach a memory to.

The others were obvious. There was always a fire burning in the Manor or in the Slytherin common room. He had grown to associate the smell of burning fires and woods to feeling at home. Butterbeer, even the sober kind, was also fairly easy to recall. Theo and Balise often spiked their drinks when they were still very young and forced to attend formal dinners over the summer months. It was sometimes the only thing that kept him sane during table talk.

"Tell me Miss.." Slughorb began, pointing to the Mudblood.

"Granger, Sir. Hermione Granger", she responded, her voice almost a hum with excitement. She stepped forward intrigued and anticipating a question.

"Can you tell me, what it is you smell?" He asked her, gesturing to the hanging cauldron over the flame at the base of the table.

"Freshly mowed grass, parchment paper, pine wood, and.. Spearmint.. Toothpaste" she hesitated on the last one, draco guessed there was something she was hesitant to reveal. Probably about Weasel: he thought snarkily.

"And what about you miss?" Slughord asked again, after Hermione retreated to the rest of the classes position. He was pointing at the girl Draco didn't recognize, the one who was previously engaged in a whirlwind conversation with Granger.

"I smell: Vanilla perfume, burning cedar, and fresh french pastries", ' she spoke in such a faint French accent Draco might have mistaken her for a Beauxbatons student if it weren't for her clearly Hogwarts robes.

"Ah, Dumbledore mentioned we had a transfer student from France, that must be you, miss?" Slughorn asked.

She hesitated when answering, looking at her fingers a few times before responding. "'Er, yes, that iz me. My name iz Aurie, Sir, Aurie Francis. I just transferred from Beauxbatons" , she clarified her identity to him swiftly, before stepping back to stand with Granger, Weasel, and Potter.

They were being oddly friendly with her, not that they were particularly unfriendly to anyone. But Draco figured their lack of need for a big introduction meant they knew her previously.

Perhaps she was one of Fleur Delacour's family members, Draco was aware that Weasel's older brother was dating the previous Triwizard competitor. It would explain the French, and recent transfer, since he was fairly certain that most of Fleur's family had fled France after a Death Eater attack over the summer, one his father had orchestrated, and then counted the flee'd for the ministry's response.

"Alrighty then. Everyone, this is Amortentia, one of the strongest love potions. The reason Miss Francis and Miss Granger smelt different things from each other, and I'm guessing different from all of you, is because it becomes the scent of what you desire most. It is very easy to brew, but very dangerous to consume. Upon intake it creates burning desires and affection so strong it becomes addictive. But luckily there is a cure, and I always keep some on hand, just in case" he chuckled at his last statement before shifting the cauldron off the table and vanishing the entire table once it was rid of its contents.

"Everyone come closer, I only have small vials of this one" he beckoned and the whole class followed his command like a herd., until they were only about a metre from Slughorn himself.

"This is Liquid Luck" he spoke again, pulling a small silver, teardrop shaped vial from his pocket, and holding it up to catch the light. "Unlike Amortentia, it is very difficult and time-consuming to brew. It gives the intaking almost unbreakable luck for one hour" Draco stared at the vial, his head snapping over intelty at Slughorn's words.

Almost unbreakable luck.

The possibilities are endless if he could get his hands on a portion of that potion. He could kill Dumbeldore in the freaking hallway if he wanted to, with little to no planning if his thoughts were correct. He wouldn't even need to carry out his little stunt of Granger if he procured some of that, let alone try and win the trust of Professor McGonagell.

Like music to his ears, Professor Sulghorn began speaking again. "I will be giving this to two studnest at the end of today's class. A student or students who are able to best recreate the Draught of Living Death found in your textbooks".

Draco almost flew to the page, and scoured it. From the page it didn't look too hard, and Slughorn believed they could brew a decent dose in one classes time.

"You'll need to partner up for this, as this dose has been split into two separate vials. But if you really desire to work alone I will allow it, but you won't get both doses if you work alone, you'll only get 1 half". Slughorn looked around as the students paired off.

Draco slumped slightly. He had zero intentions of having to work alongside someone else, but he needed both doses. He watched Potter go Weasel, Theo go with Blaise, Seamus go with Neville, and Granger go with the new girl. That just left him and Pansy.

Pansy smiled brightly as she took Draco's arm and led him over to the furthest table in the room. 

Clearly she has other intentions: he thought.

The exact sentiment was confirmed when she slid her hand slowly down his arm and rested on his thigh, in a similar way to how she held him in the Great Hall a few days prior.

He turned to her, and tried to smile affectionately, before leaning down and whispering in her ear, as sweetly as he could while fighting a gag response.

"You know, if we win those vials, I might not have to pull a stunt on the Mudblood and end up living with her all year. I can stay in the Slytherin dorms ... with... with you".

He nearly lost it at his last words, and stood quickly to open his textbook to the appropriate page. But she seemed to take it, and looked over his arm at the textbook pages before skipping over to the ingredient closet, with success written all over her face as she smirked at Hermione in the closet.

When she returned with the acquired ingredients he immediately got to work.

He tried cutting the beatles. One. Two. Three times before he accidentally flung one on impact with the knife and it flew to hit Pansy in the side. He had her hold them in place with her nails, and it worked. Slightly that is, it took a few chops before they were actually in half, and enough to squeeze the juice from.

He noticed most of the room was struggling. Seamus had a face full of soot from a previous explosion he caused when he mixed pixie dust with direct flames. Neville looked ready to pass out at the pile of sludge he and Seamus had made on their second attempt.

Granger's hair was larger than the cauldron at this point, the heat and the damp air clearly mixing together and causing untamable frizz. Draco laughed as she attempted to soothe her hair under the Weasel's stare. 

She looked like a bird's nest and it pleased him to know she wasn't excelling at something for the first time in her life.

Harry Potter on the other hand, looked just rather fine and dandy at his table with Weasley. They seemed to be enjoying themselves and nearly finished, while he was only on step four.

He tried to grate the moss like the directions told him too, but he ended up with a thick paste rather than a powder like he had intended.

"We could just pluck it in. You know, without grading it down, it's already kida powdery without doing anything" Pansy suggested.

Draco nearly wanted to hit her before he realised that she might be right. In fact, looking over at Potter's table, he didn't even see the bowl and grinder. He scolded himself and threw the bowl at the ground. Shattering it.

The whole classroom turned to look at him.

He had a scowl written across his face before Blaise stared at him, willing him to change his expression in favour of his "game".

"Apologies, Professor" He started, nodding his head in Slughorn's direction. "The bowl's seemed to slip from my hands. I was so excited to get to the next step. I'm over eager apparently". The words tasted almost like bile coming from his mouth, and his lips chapped at the moments he began to apologize.

He continued out of necessity.

"We'll try to be more careful, Reparo!" With the flick of his want the bowl was reconstructed and in his hands. Pansy looked at him slightly bewildered, before returning to pick apart the moss.

"No worries boy, I can't very well fault someone for being inspired by the mastery of positions making!" Slughorn exclaimed, going over to look at Harry and Ron's cauldron.

"Heaven's beard, you've nearly nailed it!" he exclaimed, Draco huffed angrily under his breath.

Of course Potter had nailed it, he wasn't following the instructions and he was doing whatever he willed. When did it not work out for him?

"I think we have our winners! Congratulations potter and Weasley" Slughorn's voice felt like spiders crawling in his ears.

Incessant. Tingling. And Angry.

He felt his hands curl into fists at his side, and he jerked away from Pansies attempt at condolences. He had needed the potion to get out of 8 months in hell with the Gryffindor Mudblood. Now he would have to go forth with the original plan of enacting Nott's ridiculous potions and wooing the professors with a daring rescue.

Slughorn procured two silver vials from inside his robes and placed them in Harry and Ron's willing hands. Draco started at the exchange in disappointment and fury.

Pansy's attempt at reassurance fell on his deaf ears.

Slughorn then turned to Draco, and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder, Draco nearly flinched at the contact. Draco turned his head to look at the professor's face, as he spoke.

"Nearly had it there didn't ya? You'd make a find potions master. I saw your attention to detail and determination there young Malfoy. I'll keep my eye out for your work!" Slughorn seemed almost impressed.

"Thank you Professor" Draco answered instantly, before turning to clean up the cauldron Pansy was already furiously scrubbing away at. Slughorn dropped his hand and returned to his place at the head of the classroom.

Draco turned his attention to Potter and Weasley celebrating their victory. Neville looked genuinely impressed, while Granger looked ready to kill them for beating her. Well there was something they had in common.

He hated the look of victory plasted on Potter's face. He'd seen it every year at the Feasts where Dumbledore would award enough house points to Gryffindor on Harry's behalf. But thus ran deeper. Harry was the star of the show. The boy who lived. And next to the Mudblood and Himself, he was starting to come out of top at other things than just sheer, dumb luck.

Draco stalked over to Blaise in an angry rush. He pulled the sleeve of his robes, so that Draco looked lean in and whisper.

"Tell Nott to hurry up with that potion, we need it now" He was barely audible over the sounds of Weasels 'woohoos' in the background.

"What are on about, we have till the end of the week for Mcgonagell to pick the position" Blaise interjected with the original plan.

He was right, Mcgonegell picked the Senior Prefects on Friday, it was Monday. But Potter and Weasel's little display in genius might jeopardize his arrangement. He needed to make his impression ,and he needed to do it fast. If he had any chance to get that position, it had to be before Slughorn reported Potters new found passion for potions.

Draco turned back to Blaise, and looked between him and Theo for a second.

"We're doing it tonight, get ready".

And with his declaration, he grabbed his books and walked right past the lingering celebration in the middle of the room.

As he stalked past the gang of blood-tainters, he could have sworn he felt a pair of hazel eyes following him curiously, studying him even.


	3. Chapter 3: Execution

6th Year, September 13th

The four of them spent the two hours before supper cramped in the Slytherin Common room on one couch. They couldn't risk a younger student coming up unexpectedly and hearing the plan.

Theo spent his whole afternoon slaving over the cauldron in the boys bathroom, adding the final charms and animal hairs that Blaise had his older sister mail in via owl the night before.

They had six variations in total: a bird's feather, which would produce a beak; the pig's hair, would give the injester a piggy snout; Chipmunk nose and expandable cheeks; cat whiskers. Last was Theo's personal favorite, the elephant trunk: which took considerable charm work as it would stand that elephants do not have hair or feathers, and Draco had to shave away sections of a tusk.

They were light-hearted animals, and Draco hoped that would help their hope to not get expelled; by making it seem like a harmless prank that went haywire when Blaise tried to "kidnap" the Mudblood.

Pansy and Theo had racked their brains on how to distract Potter and Weasley in order to separate Granger from them. They very quickly decided that pretending to be amused by Quidditch strategies would not work in their favour. Taking a note from potions class earlier in the day, they decided the best course of action would be to bombard them with questions about the Liquid Luck, and how they intended to use their prize.

Pansy would act flirtily towards Weasley in the hopes of distracting him from Granger particularly. They assumed she would be wonderful at it, given all the years of practice she had with Draco.

That was when Blaise would slip in and ask Granger for help brewing Draught of Living Death after his failed attempt in class earlier. He would ask to excuse her and confess at being poor potions students in need of a tutor. They anticipated Granger's Gryffindor pride would run equal with her over-friendly personality, and she wouldn't refuse helping another student.

Meanwhile in the Great Hall, Pansy and Theo would turn themselves in after the positions kicked in, and would offer to distribute the antidote to McGonagell once Blaise had successfully taken Granger away, and the plan that involved Draco had started.

Draco had to maintain his image of innocence, pretending he was not involved in the prank on the Great Hall would ensure the professors' trust in him. He wasn't even going to go for dinner, instead he was going to wait outside the corridor of the Room of Requirement to see when Blaise brought her in. Then he would intercept him right as he put her in the Vanishing Cabinet.

He would act shocked and confused to see Blaise, and Granger who would be stunned.

The plan from there was to "argue" with Blaise for a few seconds, then levitate him, unstun the Mudblood, and turn his friend in. It was a simple plan in his head, but he could think of a million ways it could go wrong.

Nott's potion could backfire and not work, or the antidote could not be strong enough to cure so many people inflicted. That would surely end in harsher punishments for Pansy and Theo.

Potter and Weasley could see through their distractions and Blaise wouldn't be able to get Granger out of the hall before the potion kicked in. Or Granger would be intrigued by their conversation and would simply tell Blaise she could tutor him later.

Lastly, Draco was worried that someone on the other side of the Vanishing Cabinet would sense that an object, or in this case a person, had been placed in and send them over. They had decided to not actually send her through due to the unknown possibilities, but Draco still wasn't sure how the Cabinet's magic worked.

He didn't particularly care for her safety, it was more that his made up reputation would lay on the line if something went wrong with the Cabinet. He would be expelled if he successfully brought her back, purley for knowing about the cabinet and knowing the dark spell it required to operate. It would be worse if someone took her on the other side and she went plainly missing.

They assumed that Granger wouldn't be the wiser to what she was being placed in, she would only think it was an armoire or fancy cabinet. 

The sheer horror of being "kidnapped" would suffice as traumatising to her, regardless if she knew just how dangerous the cabinet was. They figured that the cabinet's rarity, and the blurry vision that usually resulted from being stunned would likely mean they were safe in that regard.

Still, there were so many things that could go wrong. Draco had made his "team" memorize and recite the order of events on a clockwork schedule in order to ensure success.

6:30, Pansy and Theo start to distract Potter and Weasley.

6:35, Blaise asks Granger for tutoring to brew a potion to woo Slughorn.

6:40, Blaise gets Granger out of the Great Hall.

6:45, Theo's temporary shifting potion would be in full effect on the student population via tainted pumpkin juice.

6:55, Theo and Pansy turn themselves in and release the antidote. Blaise stuns Granger in the hallway and walks her to the Room of Requirement.

7:00, Draco "finds" Blasie and Granger, levitate Blaise and un-stun Hermione. Un-stunning will depend on how receptive Granger is to her rescuer.

7:10, Draco turns in Blaise, and carry's Granger to Madame Pomfrey to ensure the professors see it was him that did the rescue.

They had to do everything within a relatively short window of time to keep their shock factor, and not give everyone time to process what was going on. 40 minutes from the start time to the end, and almost every second Draco felt was accountable for some task. Whether it was walking, or sneaking the vial into the elves giant goblet of pumpkin juice, every second mattered.

They all walked down to the Great Hall together, as to not draw suspicions for leaving Draco in the dormitory. The walk down was silent, and full of nods between the four of them, encouraging each other.

Draco barely noticed them, he was too entertained by the idea of wooing the professors.

He stayed at the front of the Hall to ensure the Potter and his entourage all came down for supper; they did. 

Theo was with him for a few moments, but disappeared the second after he had dropped the potion into the bottomless pumpkin juice canister that filled the goblets in the hall.

From the Slytherin table Pansy gave Draco a short nodd, signaling him to go wait in the corridor of the remainder of the plan. Two gave him a sly thumbs up, telling him the potion was beginning to take to a few students.

Draco looked down at his wrist watch, 6:25. He had 25-30 minutes before Blaise would have Granger in the Room of Requirement, and less than 15 until the potion would kick in on all the students who drank the pumpkin juice.

He retreated to the shadow;s and allowed himself one more look at the Gryffindor table before vanishing.

He saw Potter and Weasley turn on the bench as Theo and Pansy approached the table. Potter looked wary of the situation, and Weasley didn't exactly look impressed either. But Pany's convincing smile lightened the Weasel's expression ever so slightly as Theo began talking.

Granger on the other hand was freaking beaming. Draco knew she had this idea of House unity, but he thought that fantasy died in second year when all of Slytherin called her a Mudblood after Draco's appraisal. Clearly she had lingering hope, which would make manipulating her psyche far easier than Draco anticipated.

Perhaps living with her would be easy: he thought. He'd just have to pretend to tolerate her, and she would leave him alone in the vain of respect and her prideful hope that he would warm up to her presence.

He gave a coy smirk athis last thought and walked himself up the stairs and to the hallway with the door to the Room of Requirement.

He waited, checking his watch like it was drugs and he was addicted.

6:35.

If the plan was working, Blaise had just asked Granger to tutor him in potions for the rest of the evening, and Pansy and Theo were engaging the boys in conversation as the potion fully kicked in at 6:40 and the hall would erupt in chaos.

He looked again several minutes later, but it felt like hours in his head.

6:55.

Something probably went wrong, he told himself. The many scenarios played in his head again.

Granger should be stunned, and Blaise should be carrying her to the hallway now. With his luck she probably had Blaise stunned and was leviting him in front of McGonagell like a caught fish at the moment.

A soft moan caught his attention before he could think of any other scenarios in which Blaise had been handed to himself by the Gryffindor Princess.

Draco peaked around the corner to find Granger slumped over Blaise 's, she was moaning slightly frompain, but still seemingly stunned and dazed.

How had sheen been injured in the process? Stunning sometimes left a sting in fingers and lingering sore muscles, but usually no physical pain was felt once the caster succeeded. Subtle noises could be erected by the victim, he recalled, but it took a considerable amount of power to make and sounds once fully stunned; unless the victim was injured, then the will to escape could sometimes overrun the spell.

He wondered if any injury inflicted would jeopardize Blaise's ability to get off easy. He wanted to sprint over and cast a quick 'Reparo" to undo any damage that would make the situation worse. But Draco didn't abandon his position, he would ask just how hard it had been to stun her later.

Blaise opened the Room, and looked back at Draco momentarily before walking quietly inside, shutting the door behind him.

Draco waited until his watch clicked 7:00 on the dot before springing into action.

He walked calming in the hallway, if someone was to walk by they couldn't know why he was there, or suspect he was rushing to or away from something.

He whispered a quick "alohomora" to unclick the locks before sliding in the door and weaving his way through the maze of junk towers.

There was a purpose to his step, excitement or determination, he couldn't place it. He was one, nearly successful, step closer to ridding himself of his mission. And after today's early blow of losing the vials of Liquid Luck, Draco was eager to get the schmoozing done, and over with.

He headed straight for the Vanishing Cabinet in the back corner of the room. It's tall steeple wasn't covered by the silk drapery anymore, and the deep black wood contrasted the rest of the room like a dark beacon.

He saw Blaise hovering over her, closing the door shut and stepping back.

He turned and nodded to Draco, signaling to start his "rescue".

"Oi, Blaise!" he called out. "What in the hell do you think you're doing? I saw you sneak out of supper with Granger, didn't think you'd go this far to get some attention from a girl!"

Draco made it a point to speak loudly enough so that Granger could hear inside the Cabinet and be able to identify her saviour to McGonagell if she was too dazed to physically see him.

He raised his voice, and changed his tone to sound accusatory. Stalking forwards he pushed Blaise slightly before yanking the door to the cabinet opened, and peering down at the girl crushed inside.

She sat there, limp from the stunning spell, but terror still plastered across her paleing features. If she was capable of shaking or screaming under the spell, Draco was certain she would be. She was horrified, and her expression behind her fazzed eyes didn't lighten when she recognized Draco as her rescuer. He saw them harden and a fire begin to burn.

There was a bruise forming over her left eyebrow. Draco nearly winced at the deep purple of the color, that would be there a while. If it was inflicted by force and not magic, there would be a lingering spot on her head for a while.

Well that explains the painful moans: thought Draco.

"Alright, and just what were you going to do here, then? Something I reckon that's reportable if you took her here?" Draco smeared viciously in Blaise's direction, turning his neck to make himself asubule to him, but still shielding Hermione with the rest of his body defensively.

Blaise drew his wand in anticipation of Draco's spell, to make it look like nothing was rehearsed, and Draco's actions would merely be in defense of himself and Granger.

He whipped to face him just as Blaise took a step, and Draco caught him in his spell before he had moved his back foot off the ground to lunge forwards. Blaises eyes snapped close, and She moaned again from pain as her head bobbed down to her chin, unable to control her movements.

"Levicorpus!"

Blaise's body hovered a few feet over the ground, and his wand dropped underneath him as he wiggled in the upper position, playing the part of a struggler.

Maintaining Blaise with a steady hand, Draco knelt to pick up Blaise's wand. He couldn't' lose contact with his spell, or Blaise would fall with a thud on the ground, and Granger would likely infer it was a set-up if he ran away and didn't put up a fight.

He knelt next to Granger and pulled her by the shoulders out of the Vanishing Cabinet, so that she was leaning against a pile of books beside it, her limbs heavy at her sides, and her eyes wandering around her surrounding, fearfully.

Her shoulder slumped the minute she broke contact with him, and her body was forced to succumb to gravity.

Draco took her chin in his hand and pointed Blaise wand at her forehead. Hermione looked ready to attack him even beneath her frozen face. The fire Draco reginzed behind her eyes had grown devastatingly, like she would pounce on Draco the moment she was freed from her physical binds.

Draco chuckled slightly, and turned to look in her eyes to address her. "By the looks of that bruise on your head you won't be attacking me the moment you can move" .

The fire behind her glazed eyes didn't change at his mocked attempt at sympathy.

"Renervate" Draco whispered, his hand still cupping her chin so that her head wouldn't fall if she was unable to maintain her stance.

The minute she was freed she pushed Draco away with a strong huff of her breath and tried to stand up to attack him. With her limbs still wobbly from being stunned, and her head throbbing in pain, she slumped against the books and grabbed her head in her hand and winced, the other was supporting her body weight against a table.

" You're concussed, most likely from whatever this bigot hit you with"

She cut him off sharply, wincing again, "his hand, ahhhh" she toppled over as she tried to take a step. Landing less than a foot away from Draco, and directly falling into his shoulder as her head pounded and he couldn't maintain her balance any longer, even with the support of the table.

He caught her, instinctively, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as she slumped into him, unable to maintain her balance with a throbbing head.

"Get off" she huffed in frustration, trying to hastily wiggle free from his firm hold on her shoulder.

Unlike his previous inklings, he didn't need to vomit at the touch of her skin. He found her quite warm under his hands, and she felt delicate in this vulnerable state, he laughed slightly. The vibration of his body, making her shiver in fear.

There was horror still etched into her features, and Draco tightened his hold and spoke.

"Seeing as I'm physically holding you up, and you can't take a step without wincing or falling over. I think I'm doing you a favour" .

His voice was softer than he intended it to be, even Blaise quirked his head to the side at the tenderness in his tone. Draco figured the little slip of his tone would likely aid in the believability of his innocence in their stunt, and her report of his right-doings to the professors.

She stopped struggling, and lay intricately still, almost as stiff as she was under the stunning spell.

He chucked again, at her annoyed assimilation into his arms, fully understanding that she couldn't reject his help. He breathed slightly as some of her straggly hair brushed his chin, and he felt short tickles as he spoke.

"Well it looks like i'll be carrying you to the infirmary".

When he looked down again, she had passed out. Either from pain, her concussion, or she had gone into shock after the whole ordeal. He released Balise carefully onto the ground, now that she wasn't aware of what was happening.

Granger still clung to Draco's shoulder, even while passed out. Her brows were furrowed in pain.

"Shit man, I didn't mean to hit her that hard, just to distract her. Dammit I'm gonna get expelled" Blaise took his wand from Draco's, hand looking down at Hermione's unconscious body, and the deep purple marking on her forehead.

"Dude chill, you'll get detention, maybe a letter home that will be tossed in the bin before your father sees it, you know the house elves don't give a dam about letters from the school. Just go back to the Slytherin Dorm while I take the Mudblood to Pomfrey and turn you in, she'll wake her up ".

Draco assured him, willing him to leave so he could shift the witch in his arms to a position where she wasn't about to topple to the ground and land on her head. Which would be effective in worsening her probable concussion.

Blaise's confirmation that her bruise wasn't inflicted with magic meant that it would likely be there for a while. 

He recalled from 3rd year, after his unfortunate run-in with Hagrid's beast, that Pomfrey didn't make it a habit to keep bruise-healing potions in her inventory. Something about - 'teaching lessons the hard way'- he remembered.

Blaise left in a hurry, making it a point to look distraught in the hallways if anyone happened to catch his eye. No one spoke to him, but a few Ravenclaw's looked questiongly in his direction on his stride back.

Crafuely, Draco slid his arm under Granger's knees, so that her body weight was evenly distributed, and her head supported on his shoulder. With one arm still under around her shoulders, he rose from his kneeling positions and took all her weight in his arms.

She was lighter than he expected, and less soft than her robes gave the impression of. In fact, he almost swore he could feel her spine beneath her jumper as he carried her out of the Room of Requirement and to the Infirmary.

***

Draco didn't leave her bedside until Madame Pomfrey returned with McGonagell, Snape, and Dumbledore in tow. He couldn't decide if it was because he wanted to see your anger when she woke up to find he was still there, or because he knew he needed to talk to the professors to turn Blaise in.

She stirred slightly, just after Pompfrey left to get Headmaster and House Heads. Even after being renovated from the stunning spell, her concussion left her groggy. Pompfrey had confirmed she had a concussion when Draco brought her in, and asked to stay with her.

Draco was sure the shock that was displayed one the little old witches face at the sight of Draco Malfoy bridal carrying an unconscious Hermione Granger would stay in her mind forever.

She kept stirring, occasionally her hand would move. He noticed that once it was to cup her face in her slumber, and then again her hand dropped to the side, half underneath her still sleeping form.

Her lips were parted as she snored lightly.

Great; he thought, she snores. That will be a joy to get used to.

If he were speaking out loud, his voice would be filled with sarcasm, probably enough to warrant a slap in the face from her.

He couldn't help but watch her sleep. He told himself it was to ensure that her injuries wouldn't jeopardize his stunt, or his friends availability to stay in school. But he found his eyes lingering on the bruise on her forehead, and something panged in his chest.

Pompfrey had kept her word about not stalking up on bruise-healing potion. She had healed the sore muscles that were caused by being stunned, and leveled the slight bump to the bruise, but the color remained just as dark and purple as it had been earlier.

Draco wondered if perhaps she would start brewing the bruise-healing potion this year. With impending war, it would make snes to stalk up on everything she could, even if she still chose to not use it on the students, instead favouring 'teaching them a lesson about violence'.

He let his eyes linger over to the rest of her face, and felt the pang under his ribs again at her brows still furrowed in pain. Even with the healing charms, the concussion would hurt. He knew all about that, he internally chuckled.

After she punched him square in the third year he had suffered a pretty nasty concussion from the impact.

"Oh Heavens! Miss Granger!" His thoughts were interrupted by McGonagell's sharp gasp and hurried walk over to Granger's bedside.

"I should hope you can explain yourself Mr Malfoy!" her eyes bore into Draco's at her revelation that he was beside her.

Draco gulped, and looked up to meet Snapes questioning eyes.

Beside him, Madame Pomfrey was smiling at Albus Dumbledore and whispering what Draco had told her when he initially brought her in.

"I noticed Blaise Zambini was absent from the Great Hall, so I went looking for him. I found him carrying her, stunned, into the Room of Requirement. He stuffed her in an armoire when I caught up to them."

McGonagell looked stunned, and he continued. "I levitated Blaise to get him away without causing him any harm. But when I was renervating the- Miss Granger, My wand slipped and he ran off ".

"Are you aware of what your friends pulled in the Great Hall?" McGonagell questioned him, ignoring his accusation of Blaise, instead pestering him for information about a linkage. 

They, as a group, had already decided Draco would play that he didn't know about Pansy's and Theo's stunt in the Great Hall. It had to look like Blaise, Theo and Pansy were in connection, but Draco was out of the loop.

"No Professor, I wasn't in the Great Hall very long." 

He did his best to look confused. In some respects he was, he didn't actually have any information as to how the potion and antidote played out. All he knew is that it had worked well enough for the whole plan to conclude the way it was intended. If something had gone wrong, and the potions effects were worse then they had expected, he was none the wiser. 

"It seems some of your friends decide to set a Weasley - level stunt at dinner tonight. Perhaps they were in cahoots with Mr Zabini. Although I find it hard to believe that you, yourself, were not involved in this" McGnongell had made her way to Hermione's bedside, opposite of him, and refused to meet his eye.

"If I may'' Professor Snape's snarl voice rose at McGonagell's completion. 

He looked over, and gestured to Draco. "If you recall, I spent a while this summer break at the Malfoy Manor, and observed Mr Malfoy. In my time, I observed his behaviours, which was very... protective... in nature. Specifically towards his mother."

Draco nodded in Snape's direction. He figured his Professor inferred he was onto something, and that Draco's innocence being maintained was important to some greater plan. 

Snape hadn't been wholly wrong either, even Draco could admit that. Sure, he had no issues calling Granger a Mudblood, and living with her still made his blood boil under his skin. 

But he had grown extremely protective of his Mother over the summer, after she advocated for Draco not to receive the mark until after he had accomplished his mission, and Snape could use that to make him appear softer.

Draco knew his mother never took the mark, the Dark Lord trusted her loyalty to himself and her family to be enough, and Narcissa even tried to beg his father to convince Voldemort that Draco needn't take the mark either. But they had insisted that at the accomplishment of his mission, Draco would receive the Mark as a "reward".

It was clear his mother saw the Mark as a death sentence, not a reward. The only reason she had been spared from Askaban was because she didn't have the brandish on her arm. She clearly wanted Draco to afford that escape if needed.

But for her strive to protect him, she had been punished. Segregated from the rest of the family, and told not to attend any business. She had never been physically harmed, but Voldemort had tried to starve her out, and banish her inside her own Manor without Lucius' knowledge.

It was so bad that on Snape's last visit, Draco had nearly begged him to ask the Dark Lord to change his treatment of her. He didn't, but now Snape's glimpse of sympathy was something he could use to help get Snape to convince the other professors to trust him.

Now Snape looked at him questiongly, trying to figure out what plan he was stirring up by saving Hermione Granger.

"I think, perhaps, Mr Malfoy might be trying to turn over a new leaf" Snape concluded, giving Draco a slight nod.

"Well Mr Malfoy, if what you say is true. Please go back to your dormitory and collect Mr Zabini. I think he should join the rest of his teammates in my office" When Dumbledore spoke, Draco's suspicion about his declining health was confirmed. He was assertive, but obviously frail.

"Of course, Headmaster" Draco answered, raising from his seat just as he saw Hermione's eyes open, and widen as she recognised him.

"YOU!" she screamed, trying to sit up abruptly, only to be pushed down by the shoulders by Madame Pomfrey.

Her eyes shot daggers at Draco, and Dumbledore looked like he might chuckle at the dramatic scene playing out in front of him.

"Lay down dear" Pomfrey's voice broke the stunning silence that lingered after her outburst towards Draco.

"I'll be going Professors. I will see to it that Blaise is in your office Headmaster" Draco addressed the adults standing awkwardly around himself and Hermione before beginning his exit.

Halfway across the room, he looked back and saw McGnigell step over to Snape and bombard him with questions, as Dumdbledore engaged in a conversation with Pompfrey, likely about Granger's injuries. He saw Granger's eyes still glaring at him, and decided to play with her a little. 

"Oh, Hermione" he called back to her, stunning her that he didn't call her a Mudblood at the first chance he could. 

He startled even himself by using her given name. 

"Put some ice on your head, you passed out last time you tried to hit me" he laughed out loud at the last part and flashed a fake smile in her direction before escaping any arguments or comments that may have followed.


	4. Chapter 4: Fear or Fun?

6th Year, September 18th

Draco noticed that Hermione wasn't in potions the next day, or the day after that. He suspected that Pompfrey had demanded she take bed rest as her head healed. 

He hadn't even seen her in the Great Hall and he expected that Pompfrey had imprisoned her in the infirmary to ensure she followed directions.

She was back at Supper on Thursday, but didn't return to classes the rest of the week. Because of this, her partner, Aurie, had to be put in a new group. Slughorn decided that since Draco was excelling, in the class, only next to Potter and Hermione, that Aurie would do best in his group.

Despite being a Hufflepuff, she was quite clever, in an odd way Draco noted. He might have compared her to Luna "Loony" Lovegood if it weren't for her normal appearance and eloquent speaking voice. She did well at simple steps, but fumbled on prestigious wand work. Letting Draco do it instead, and talking with Pansy in the meantime.

Pansy had taken a liking to her straight away, and Draco felt for once in the past three years that he wasn't the centre of her mind.

They had successfully brewed the Drought of Living Death for the rest of the week. Slughorn ensured that by the close of Friday's class, every student had completed it nearly perfectly. Draco, Pansy, and Aurie had finished by the end of Tuesday.

The rest of the week was spent with Pansy and Aurie huddled in the corner talking amongst each other, and Draco offering to help Slughorn in the classroom to ensure he was on his good side.

His eyes wandered over to the Gryffindor table at Saturday's supper feast. He didn't know why, but every meal since Tuesday morning he found himself looking at her table, looking for her. Perhaps it was to look at the healing bruise on her forehead he told himself, or to size her up, and get to know her tendencies now that he was almost certain they would end up forced to live amongst each other.

He was confident he had successfully woo'd Slughorn with his newfound interest in potions. His "daring rescue" certainly improved his chances with McGonagell. Pomfrey also seemed taken aback by his appearance at the infirmary, and he betted that she would vouch for him.

Snape had assured him privately on Wednesday that he would rally for him, after Draco had briefly explained why the position would be beneficial to his mission.

He had miraculously managed to impress Professor Flitwick after charms class the day previously by offering to help some first years with their wand work. Flitwick was astounded at his request to provide some help in the classroom, and much to Draco's dismay, he was mostly helping muggle-born first years learn how to hold their wands all of Thursday evening.

But it managed to work, or at least he assumed it had when Flitwick smiled at him when he greeted him earlier in the day at class.

Now he was staring at Hermione Fucking Granger, the Gryffindor Princess, just waiting for McGonagell to announce thet they would be the most trusted students in the school... And have to live together. It was like a living nightmare to any Slytherin to have to live with Gryffindor, much less a Pureblood forced to room with a muggle-born.

Yet, when he looked at her, he wasn't fully repulsed. He certainly wasn't very thrilled at the prospect, but he rather enjoyed the idea of subtly getting under her nerves, and feeding into her 'House Unity' fantasy by pretending to be civil and trustworthy.

"Ahem" Dumbledore's voice pierced the Hall, willing it to fall silent.

It was the first time many of the student's ad heard him speak this year. Draco himself only heard him when he had brought Hermione to the Infirmary. Some of the first years looked stunned that he was even capable of speech as they all fell eerily silent.

"Professor McGonagell has a few words about the new Senior Prefect position. I would like all the sixth years to know that their behaviour over the past week has been observed whether or not you believed you were in the running. That, as well as adventurous and considerable effort in academics were taken into account. Good Luck!" He smiled as he waved McGonagell forwards.

"Good Luck? As if he already doesn't know exactly whom's been chosen" Pansy whispered in Draco's ear. He felt her breath down his neck, and it made him shiver in disgust.

"Bet he got final say" Theo added, elbowing Draco lightly in the ribs as an encouraging gesture.

Sometimes it truly baffled Draco how Theo Nott has been instructed to provide encouragement growing up. His idea of 'good luck' had been slightly annoying, but not completely painful, acts of violence since he was eleven. Usually a nudge in the ribs, but sometimes a slightly too harsh slap on the back would be how he showed almost any emotion: good luck, encouragement, thanks, pride.

McGonagell stepped up to the golden phoenix clad podium, and beside her a scroll appeared in mid-air and unraveled before her.

"Before I announce the Senior Prefects, I want to go over the expectations and guidelines these students will be required to follow. Should the chosen students feel they can cannot represent the position well, or adhere to the regulations, I will evaluate this upcoming week and announce the new students next weekend"

McGonagell's announcement sounded almost like a threat to the student body. In a strange way it raised Draco's hopes. If she was apprehensive that the chosen students may not be able to abide by the rules, perhaps she really had conceded and given him the spot.

"Alright. The Senior Prefects have a separate dormitory and living quarters. The Password is not to be shared with any friends or staff that have not been explicitly given permission by myself or the Headmaster. This includes siblings, other prefects, head boy and head girl, and house-mates"

Draco looked up at Blaise confused. So they would have a separate living situation that had to remain secretie. The position was sounding more strange than he had initially expected.

McGonagell continued; "The Senior Prefects are not required to make nightly rounds to ensure curfew is unkempt, instead they will be reported to by the other prefects. Any infractions reported go directly to myself. They not permitted to report to the Head Boy or Head Girl, as they have other issues to attend to"

That part seemed reasoned enough to Draco. The position had always been a direct line to the professors.

"The Senior Prefects will be excused from Friday classes in order to help maintain the castle's wards, and debrief on the weekly reports. They are permitted to still maintain their prosociality in the school by engaging in clubs and teams, but they are not permitted to be Quidditch Captain, or Leaders as additional responsibilities may take attention away from their duties"

The more draco heard about the position, the more it was sounding the Head Boy without all the fun. The students' Heads were regularly prominent figures in the school teams and clubs, and they often threw small gatherings in their private dorm; but those abilities would not be awarded to the Senior Prefects. The only difference between the positions, besides the lack of fun, was that Senior Prefects were not required to engage with students on a regular basis.

Where the Head Students and Prefects were required to give tours, organize house events, and oversee students wellbeing, the Senior Prefect's role seemed solely about ensuring safety and order. With a strange element of secrecy in the fast that the dormitory was so secure.

"Lastly, the Senior Prefects are not permitted to go home for Holidays as there are specific events they will be needed for over the Winter and Spring breaks" .

Her voice didn't change much in Draco's head. He hadn't exactly been thrilled to go home at Christmas break, he only wanted to see his mother. Perhaps he could convince Snape to make arrangements to see his Mother at Hogsmeade.

"Now for the main event", McGonagell's voice had a small inch of happiness in it, hidden behind her weak smile. It was the first time he had seen hope flash over her since they had arrived. He noted that it was apprehensive hope, but still hope nonetheless.

"The female Senior Prefect is Hermione Granger, from Gryffindor House" Her voice rang through the hall.

The Gryffindorr, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff tables erupted in applause. Draco had no doubt everyone expected it, she was the 'Brightest Witch of her Age', a creator of 'Dumdbledore's Army', and rumoured to be one of the youngest members of the Order of the Phoenix. Of course McGonagell would pick her, there probably hadn't even been any competition.

"Alright settle down now!" McGonagall continued. "The male Senior Prefect goes to ...  
She stalled before continuing, less enthused ... "Draco Malfoy from Slytherin House"

The roaring applause that Hermione was greeted with was starkly absent.

Instead Draco guessed he could hear a pin drop amongst the silence that his name was greeted with. Even from the Slytherin table, the students were stunned into silence, with only Blaise patting him approvingly on the back ,and Pansy flashing him a quick smile.

He looked over to the Gryffindor table to see a less than shell-shocked Hermione. He would have guessed that out of all people she would be the most infuriated and confused, but instead he figured that title would now go to Weasle-bee who looked ready to snap his head off.

Hermione looked in no way happy or even emotionless at the revelation of her new room-mate, just confused and smooth, like the unexpectedness had caught her off guard.

Draco was able to find one other smiling face in the Hall before McGonagell broke the stirring silence. Aurie was smiling up at him from the Hufflepuff table, a warm and bright smile that began directed at his eyes and drifted over to Pansy's.

"Could Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger please make their way to the Headmasters office at the close of today's feast please" The silence in the hall lingered a few seconds after McGonagell had concluded, but at her return to her seat he heard the whispers and angry rumbles commence.

The feast went by relatively quickly. The noise retired from the Great Hall as students began filing out, leaving only a handful of older students lingering at their tables, in small quiet discussions.

"Draco, you should probably head to Dumbledore's office soon, maybe if you're early you can avoid Weasley's inevitable attempt to beat you up." Blaise gestured over to the Gryffindor table where Ron was still shooting eye daggers at him.

"He looks about ready to pound you into the floor mate" Nott continued Blaise's thoughts.

Draco rose swiftly from the table, nodding to his friends and briefly meeting Hermione's eyes before exiting the Great Hall.

***

"I take it you heard Professors McGoonagell's notes at the beginning of today's feast, and you won't require a re-run?" Snape's voice tore into Draco, knowing he was directing his question at him. Clearly Snape knew Draco hadn't considered the potential limitations his role as a Senior Prefect would give him.

It was true, and Draco relented in admitting it to himself. He had only focussed on the prospects of getting closer to Dumbledore to complete his mission, not the notion that his role as a trusted student would come with heavy limitations.

"Yes Professor" Hermione answered the question. He assumed the question had been directed at her, Snape had always been pesky about her cleverness, and made her repeat steps verbally in the classroom to taunt her.

Just then Dumbledore swept into the room in one quick movement, Fawks accompanied him, whisking through the air and perching himself next to the aging wizard on his branch.

"Such fine young talents" Dumbledore began, Hermione beamed brightly at his remark. "I do hope the two of you can work well enough together this year. McGonagell and Snape had informed me of your past qualms, but I hope you can assure me there will be no issues?"

His last part was said as a question, and Hermione's smile faltered. It was replaced with a glaze over her eyes and a monotone mask in her voice.

"I.. can, Headmaster. I should hope that Mr Malfoy can too" she looked over her shoulder to him as his name rolled off her tongue like a snicker.

She was taunting him, attempting to take the high road to make him look bad, and Draco wasn't about to let her have all the fun.

"I see no issues Headmaster. I am quite honoured you, and the professors have given me this opportunity given my previous record. I assure you I will do my best to avoid any altercations", he did his best attempt as ass-kissing, and he assumed it worked based on Snape's eye-roll that he could see in the sides of his vision.

Now Hermione looked stunned, and somewhat angry. He took her furrowing brows, and slightly balled fists as a sign that his tone was convincing enough.

McGonagell stepped forwards from her position adjacent to Snape, and took a small book off of the Headmaster's table before speaking.

"Well then, I can escort you both to your new quarters. The Elves have already gathered your things, but if there are items missing you are free to ask them to go back, or you may retrieve them yourselves tomorrow"

Hermione and Draco rose in synchronicity, and followed her out of the office and into the hallway.

He noticed her trying to walk slightly ahead of him, and he lengthened his strides to meet hers evenly. She huffed under her breath when she realised what he was doing.

"What is your deal Malfoy? You save me from your friends, act all nice to me, get this position, and then what? Disregard your whole family? Or is this some plot to kill me in my sleep and win Death Eater points for killing an underage muggle-born?"

She was trying to size him-up, and suddenly her lack of shock made sense to him. She probably knew he was playing some sort of game, but she hadn't figured it out. She had her guard up, and was lamely tying to get his secrets out by merely asking questions while walking in the corridor with a professor only a ears-width away.

"Don't flatter yourself Hermione, my daily thoughts don't usually include you. Only when you end up in my way do you even cross my mind. And don't be silly, I doubt killing a sixth year witch would get me any brownie points in the inner circle" He deliberately included the last bit to scare her off. If she thought, even by one inch, that he had connection to Voldemort's inner circle, she might be too frightened to pester him with questions.

"You avoided the question about why, which means you're hiding something. What could be so important that they've entrusted Draco Malfoy with a secret? Ohh.. is it the recipe to Snape's cookies?" she did in fact pester on, much to his dismay, and clearly tried to pang a nerve by remarking that he was likely entrusted with something as silly as a baked goods secret.

"Aren't we all hiding something?" his comment was the last thing spoken before McGonagell abruptly stopped walking, and stood before a massive portrait of the castle.

He looked up in awe. The portrait was almost as tall as the ceiling, and painted in remarkable detail. Even his measly appreciation for art was struck at the complexity of this work. Hermione seemed equally transfixed by the painting, as she stared up, craning her neck to see the top.

"You'll notice there is no person to give a password to. Now I might have lied about not being allowed to give away the password, but that's because there isn't one".

Draco and Hermione both snapped their heads to look at her confused.

"The door is charmed to only allow you two in, it's a blood recognizing bind, you simply have to place your hand over any part of the frame, and the door should open. Now just because there is no password doesn't mean you can bring anyone with you. The charm won't allow anyone that isn't you two, myself, Professor Snape, or the Headmaster into the room".

Draco gawked openly at her response. Blood magic often took considerable amounts of pressure, and would leave the castor weak for days. He assumed that Snape had aided McGonagell in casting the charm, and that would account for her weakened appearance the first few days of school.

Usually blood magic requires a sample of blood from each of the castors, and others included, and he wondered how they had achieved the charm without occurring his or Hermione's blood prior to the casting.

Hermione verbalized his questions not a moment later, "Professor, how is that even possible? Without a sample of our blood included?"

"Oh dear, it isn't the type of blood magic you are thinking of. It's simply a detection charm in combination with wards. The charm will detect the magical properties in your blood, and your own distinct magical signature on contact with the frame, and then allow you to enter. If it detects someone who is not permitted, I will seize its ward's and set off an alarm inside the rooms", she answered swiftly, immediately calming Draco's nerves that someone the professors kept vials of blood of each of their students in some secret classroom.

He knew which magic he had immediately thought of, and by the looks of Hermione's reaction, she had also wrongly presumed dark magic. Blood Curses and Binds were common in Death Eater ranks. Those ones required blood offerings and held much stronger consequences if broken or intruded, often leaving someone dead.

McGonagell moved out of the way for them to test out the charmwork. Draco stepped forearead, only a second before Hermione, and placed his palm on the brass frame. It was cold under his touch, and he felt no physical movement behind his hand as it lingered there before he pulled away.

He stepped back with his brows narrowed in confusion.

But then, right before his eyes a brass doorknob appeared exactly where his palm had just let go. Hermione reached for it first, pulling the painting from the wall to reveal the curved archway behind.

He stepped through the threshold just behind her, and marvelled at the common room that greeted him. It was larger than he expected.

There were two larch arm chairs in the section to the right, with no fireplace present, instead the armchairs were sounded by walls of books that one would need a ladder to reach. There was one, of course, a sliding ladder was off the far side of the bookshelf.

Opposite of the study area was a small muggle kitchen. He thought that was strange since meals were prepared three times a day in the great hall, and students would often wander to the kitchens when they were hungry.

McGonagell noticed Draco's confusion at the kitchen. "This room is an old guest room. When the founders built it, they included rooms for when the family visited, that's why there is a kitchen Mr Malfoy".

He only nodded in response.

Hermione was already climbing the ladder of the bookcase when Draco made his way over to the window seat that sat between two doors, which he presumed were their separate bedrooms. He looked out to find a perfect view of the quidditch pitch, and he nearly smiled.

At the very least he could look out of the room and forget he was essentially improved with a Gryffindor Mudblood. He could look out and watch practices, and pretend he was there. It felt almost like home. It felt safe.

Safe? He scoffed.

He was trapped in a room with a witch who was undoubtedly going to annoy him with questions and get under his skin within days.

"Mr Malfoy. your door is to the left, Miss Granger yours is to the right. Now there are no separate wards on your rooms. I figured you could get along well enough, but the room will allow you to set your own if you see need be" McGonagel's voice left Draco lost in the mid as he looked over the quidditch pitch.

He longed to play. He hadn't found the joy in playing over the summer, and figured being with his friends would change that. But as Senior Prefect he couldn't play, at least not in the way he wanted to. He was going to try for Captain.

That was his first plan to get closer to the Professors, before this position was even available. But he wouldn't be able to be Captain, and he didnt want to be slung around by another Slytherin telling him what to do as Seeker.

He didn't even acknowledge McGonagels presence leaving, he just kept staring out into the abyss of the grounds. Fe was able to make out Hagrid's Hut, and the border of the Forbidden Forest in the far background, and the Black Lake looked deep and drear under the cloudy night sky.

He pulled himself off the window seat, and launched for his door. There was just enough time to yank it open and see green drapery before he heard Hermione calling his name from the bookshelf.

"Malfoy! come here a minute" she yelled.

"Bugger off. I'm going to sleep to get away from your tiresome questioning" he kept walking into the room and sprawled himself out on the four poster bed in the middle in one stride.

It was a decently big room, at least for being at Hogwarts, and the bed was larger than the ones in the dormitory's. There were no windows, no outside light came in, and it felt similar to the Slytherin common room in that aspect. Everything had been outfitted in Slytherin green and silver, and the house crest was engraved on the back of his door.

He assumed Hermione's room was clad in awful red and gold. The color sequence ws tacky in Draco's eyes, it was too bright and headache-inducing. Much like Hermione herself, the color schemes could spark a shrilling pain in someone's skull within moments of being in their presence.

When Draco raised his head he found Hermione standing in his doorway, just looking at him.

"Yep, I'm setting wards'' he said aloud, making it clear she was not welcome in the room, despite McGonagel explicitly not placing wards in the bedrooms. Draco found that odd anyways, but especially given the two students that she had chosen. "What do you want?" he sighed when she didn't leave.

"I want to set rules" she started, but Draco cut her off with a low chuckle.

"Ahh, of course. Gryffindor's Rule-Abiding Princess would like to set rules on her accord in a shared space. I shouldn't have expected any less" Draco was thankful that McGonagell was absent because his previously semi-sweet and pleasant demeanour was cut off, and the grit of his teeth etched into his voice making it shrill and low.

"As i was saying... you can set wards in your room, I really don't care, but in the common areas I want rules, especially since no one else can be in here so we will inevitably be spending a great time of time in each others...." she stalled before continuing to stumble over the right word ".. welcoming presence". Her last words were filled with sarcasm levels that could rival his own at times.

"Fine, what are your terms?" he let himself succeed this once, mostly just to get her out, but also to hear what she would put up with before potentially blowing up.

"Okay. Firstly, no calling me 'Mudblood" she looked down at the first ask, and Draco almost laughed again.

"I haven't even called you that!" it wasn't a lie, he hadn't verbally said it to her aloud, but internally that was how he had recalled her, and he usually recalled her that way to his friends as well.

"Yes, er, well, you havn't yet, but I know it's coming. I don't particularly care about the word itself, it means nothing to me. But saving some decency in this arrangement will likely be necessary to maintaining a healthy psychology" She continued, baffling Draco with her arrangement of words.

"Your just making up words now Granger" he near growled back at her.

He hadn't recalled anyone using the word 'psychology' in his life, he wasn't even sure what it referred to.

"I mean keeping ourselves sane will depend on our interactions with one another. I would prefer not to be reminded you view yourself as superior to me because I simply exist with magic", her stand shifted so that her arms crossed over her chest.

Draco noted that in her defensive stance, that she was over a foot shorter than him. She was rolled back slightly on her heels and had bent her knees, she was standing so that he figured he could easily escape this conversation using a minimal amount of force to get by her if she kept going for too much longer.

"Secondly, don't touch my stuff. That goes for me too, I won't touch anything i don't recognise as mine. You can ward your room to be safe, but I ask that you leave my belongings alone and stay out of my room" she continued, and her remarks this time around left him more baffled than her made up words.

Her implications that she wasn't going to ward her door confused him. If one of her rules was to steer clear of each other's belongings, wouldn't it make sense to magically secure them? He thought to himself.

"And rule 3" she started, stepping closer so that she was fully inside the room.

Draco wasn't sure when he had stood up, be he was up and standing not further than a few feet from her. Her arms were still crossed defensive over her body, and she looked up at him through narrowed eyes.

He bore into her eyes, and noted a quick flash of fear that rolled over her eyes as he hovered over her. He figured she must have realised how much his mask had fallen and how ready he was to literally throw her out at any moment.

"Do not make any advances towards me, and I think you know what I mean by that. Malfoy" she smeared his name, looking down at the carpet refusing to meet his eyes.

His mouth dried, and he flicked his fingers under her chin swiftly so that she was forced to look at him.

"Oh I don't think that rule will be necessary Granger '' there was a vile nature to his tone that senf fearful shivers down Hermione's spine.

Draco watched as she tried to gain her composure back. She set her feet firmly and snatched his wrist to pull his finger away from under her chin. He felt the light prickle of her nails dig into his wrist and she cockily smiled up at him before speaking again.

"From what I hear your swing girls over your knees like newspapers'' she was smooth this time. Her voice showed no inch of fear, a far reach from the slight tremble of her fingers around his wrist, giving away her true emotions.

Draco chucked loud and low. He took his other and plucked his index finger under her chin again to force her to look up. He yanked his other wrist with a force strong enough to make Hermione stumble backwards a bit.

His finger never left her chin, and she resumed her defensive stance as she crossed her arms around herself and the fear overtook her eyes.

He was angry. In a way he didn;t know he could be angry. It was like fire was spreading through his fire, and he felt hot sparks under her touch. He wanted her gone, if he wasn't so concerned about keeping his position he was sure he would have hexed her upon her outland request.

The fast that she had even though he would pursue her in that way made his blood boil.

She meant it as a joke. He knew it was purposeful. Getting under his skin seemed to be her intention since they had left Dumbledore's office, and the angry fire that stirred within him made him want revenge.

He smiled devilishly down at her, enjoying the way he made her shake under him. He lowered his head to a few inches above her ear so that she could feel his hot breath run down her neck. 

At this angle he could feel every inch of her trembling underneath him, and he smiled.He met her eyes, and saw the fire he had seen in the Room of Requirement. Even looking like scared dog, Hermione managed to look ready to hex him, ready to pounce, and like she could summon hellfire at a single command. 

"Draco Malfoy doesn't kiss and tell, silly girl" His voice was low and daring, he was scolding her for thinking she could make him uncomfortable in his own room.

Every fibre of him was angry, and he didn't know why. Logically he knew she hadn't done anything to warrant a big reaction from him, she'd only asked a few basic things from him. But her presence in his room, and her suggestive prompt flared his sinsides and he wanted to physically throw her out.

He didn't care if she would land in a heap of broken limbs, or if her concussion would worsen. He wanted her out.

He released her chin sharply and he nearly fell backwards at the loss of contact. He gave her no time to recover before pushing her by the shoulder so that she was outside his door.

The fire at his fingertips lessened when he released her.

She was trembling nearly as much as she had been when Blaise had her in the Vanishing Cabinet, and for one second her let himself look at the healing bruise on her forehead, and his chest panged.

Her eyes looked up at his, wide and searching his face to anticipate his next move.

"I'll abide by your rules Grangers. Just stay outta my way" he huffed.

He watched the relief wash over her face at his words, the the fire never left.

Within a second he slammed the door on her face and lept back onto bed, seeking the comfort of sleep and the tranquility of the night. 

His head pounded in fury even after the loss of contact, both physical and in proximity. It was consuming him, the rage and anger. She had dared to tempt his patience and greedily tried to rile him up, and for what? 

She was scared that part was obvious, bit she still wanted him uncomfortable in her presence. Despite her 'rules' being set to change just that, being uncomfortable, she seemed to be fixated on causing just that. ...And she was winning in some regards. 

While she had evidently been scared, she looked firm, and that only enraged him more. Knowing hat she could easily get under his skin by being in his precise, but it took considerable effort on his part to enact the same reaction from her. 

He only noted a change in her once his finger at touched her chin, until then she was relatively calm. 

It infuriated him, and blamed him to know that he could retrieve some time alone in their arraignment if she didn't care about wards. But her seeming desire to make him uncomfortable might be an issue. 

If she wanted to annoy him, she would surely be doing that. 

He felt so Dark. 

Even when he was booming with so much anger he could feel sparks at his finger tips, he felt dark on the inside. 

He rolled over, sighing into the pillow, within he could smother himself. He hadn't been lying on the Hogwarts Express when he said he'd rather pitch himself off the Astronomy tower the come here next year. With his mission looming and his current arrangement, he briefly pondered the thought of quickening that end.

He sighed again thinking of his mother, and the look on her face knowing he had taken the cowardly way out. 

He signed again thinking of the fire behind Hermione's eyes as she stared fearful up at him. 

He'd be dammed if his life in the room was dictated by Hermione Fucking Granger. The fire in her eyes led him to believe she wouldn't stop at simply annoying him, she wanted to make his life a living hell. 

Two could play at that game; he thought to himself as he allowed sleep to pull him under.


	5. Chapter 5: Fire

6th Year, September 25th

The first week being trapped with Hermione in a dormitory went by far smoother than he expected. Her desire to annoy him with indulging questions all but vanished in the hours passing, and he noted she herself almost vanished along with them.

She kept mostly to her room, barley coming in and out of the common room a few times to grab a book off the massive shelf before retreating back. The few times he had managed to meet her eyes, intending to scare her again, playing her little game, she already looked afraid before he had done anything.

It startled him slightly to know that she was in a perpetual state of fear in her own living situation. It worked out for him well enough, he had free reign over the armchairs, and he had learned how to use the muggle kettle to make tea wherever he wanted.

But she barely showed herself.

And something was unnerving about her fragile presence.

She was purposely avoiding him. Everytime he closed his bedroom door, he could hear hers open. He could hear her knock more than three times every time she used the bathroom that stood between the bedrooms.

The only thing about her that hadn't been avoiding him was her hair. Everytime he stood from an armchair he found a few strands of brown curly hair weaved in his fingers, or stuck to his robes. He found one in his bed one morning and silently cursed her out, despite knowing she was none the wiser.

Her hair was everywhere, the armchairs, the kitchen, his clothes, he felt like he was being consumed by her and she had barely been in the same room as him besides for potions class.

She barely looked at him then either. Draco could see Aurie glance between them, guessing as to how the rooming situation was going, before listening to Slughorn.

The first Monday back in class Slughorn had praised the two of them and had them stand in front of the class like prized cattle.

The entire class looked annoyed in some fashion. 

Weasley and Potter changed from ready to kill him, to looking at Hermione worriedly. Seamus and Neville could barely tell how to read the room, as evident by the bewilderment splashed on their less than Gryffindor-looking faces. Blaise, Theo and Pansy's expressions were all different. Pansy was looking exactly at Hermione in the same way Weasley was looking at Draco. Theo was simply smiling at Draco, attempting to be supportive, and Blaise was trying not to laugh, at Hermione's awkward shuffle away from him. 

Once again Draco noted that Aurie Francis was the only one genuinely pleased with the situation, and smiling between both Draco and Hermione.

By Wednesday Hermione still hadn't made eye contact, despite Draco feeling like he was living with a shedding cat version of her who was always everywhere, and Aurie looked genuinely worried.

She caught Draco on the way out of potions and asked to speak with him. Draco was confused, but obliged, curious to know why she seemed to have a weird soft spot for him.

Initially he told himself that it was because she was new, and didn't know his reputation. But with the amount of time she spent talking with Hermione, and then the opposite exposure of her time with Pansy, he was genuinely baffled as to why she wasn't hexing him into oblivion for one of the two girls' reasons.

\- "How much have you seen of Hermione?" -Draco was caught off guard by her question, unsure of what answer she was looking for.

\- "She hides out in her room most of the time" - he responded, deciding that blatant truth was the only way he was likely to get anything out of her, if there was one thing he wasn't it was a lair. -"Anytime I'm in a common area she avoids it, and she triple checks rooms before going in to make sure I'm not there" - , he concluded his thought and Aurie looked shocked.

\- "What did you do?"- her tone dropped and she looked horrified and worried. He couldn't tell if it was for herself or on behalf of someone else.

Her pace stilled and Draco took another step to look directly at her. She was shorter than Hermione, probably the same height as his mother if he was guessing. She had pin-straight dark blond hair that was chopped finely at her collarbones. Her eyes were barely a color, grey voids that had a hint of gold in them as she started up at him. She was anything but menacing, but Draco found the mix of her tone and her harsh stance to be at least mildly uncomfortable.

\- "I literally saved her from Blaise Zabini, and told her I would abide by her rules. That doesn't seem too bad now does it?" - she purposely cocked his head to the side and dripped his voice in sarcasm.

\- "You scared her. That's what she told me. In fact Pansy told me a similar story. They are both scared of you. Why? I have no idea, but you did something, or are doing something, that scares them, and Hermione's not okay. Just watch her before she does something stupid" - She continued and ignored Draco's joking demeanor.

She seemed genuinely concerned for Hermione, less so for Pansy, and Draco decided to end to conversation seeing as how he was clearly not leading it, and she was stubbornly relenting his attempts to guide her off.

\- "Pansy's not scared of me, she's been trying to get in my pants for years" - Draco smeared and turned away from her, beginning his walk to the Great Hall.

She chuckled and kept walking. She walked faster than him and past him on his left before disappearing to a corridor off to the side.

Now, at Friday's, Draco sat in the Great Hall with his head filled with confusing conversations and encourtners from the previous week. He was impatiently waiting for the feast to finish so he could get his meeting with Snape over with.

It was his first of many weekly meetings with Snape to report his ideas for action against his Headmaster. Draco hadn't thought about much more since acquiring the Senior Prefect position. He was waiting to get that edge that he had hoped for.

He knew Snape would be expecting more than a waiting game. He saw his professors eyes linger on the Slytherin table longer than usual over supper, and he saw the inquisting look on his face as he caught Draco.

***

"I haven't gotten anything to report yet Professor, so if we can be done here?"

Draco hadn't expected to be brought back to His professors office, he assumed a simple conversation in an empty corridor would suffice, especially given his lack of information for the time being. But Snape had insisted and now he was sitting across the table from Snape in his office. Snape wasn't exactly sitting, he was leaning over the table and shuffling through a book that Draco didn't recognize.

"That's not why I needed you to come here. I trust you've located the Vanishing Cabinet? I'm assuming that is where Mr Zabini was stuffing Miss Granger in, and she was ill informed of the severity of her situation?" Snape raised an eyebrow in his direction, tempting him to try and lie about Draco's involvement in Blaise's "kidnapping" of Hermione over a week ago.

"Yes, Professor. I know it's location" He sounded suave, as he leaned back on the chair, unsure of where Snape's inetiones lied.

He had assumed he would grill him for information, or ideas when Draco had come with less than expected updates. Instead Snape had completely brushed off the details and involvement with his mission, and instead had seemed bored at Draco's confession of his lack of updates.

Draco was blessed that he hadn't pressured on and asked why he was so ill-minded and delayed when it came to planning his Headmaster's demise. Truth was, Draco was less than eager to admit to his Professor and Mentor that his week had been consumed with ideas as to why his roommate was ignoring him. 

He had developed a few theories: Weasley finally worked up the courage to ask her out, Harry had put himself in harms way of developed stupid thesis that he needed Hermione's brain to solve, or the more simple version: she was just ignoring him for the sake of playing her little game.

He assumed it was the latter. Even after he had intimidated her, and Aurie had confirmed that she thought Hermione was fearful of him, she still seemed to want revenge for the little stint that she orchestrated. She left her belongings everywhere, and he assumed she was trying to tempt him into breaking rule number two: don't touch her things.

Unfortunately, one of her belongings in which she left was her hair. She didn't even know it, but it was driving him absolutely crazy. He found it everywhere. The bathroom, the armchairs, the kitchen, the carpet, even inside some of the books on the bookshelf. It was insane how much she was shedding.

Her attempts to annoy him had been unsuccessful when she ignored him, but her inadvertent leaving of hair left him wanting to yell at her abisamly.

So no, he was very much not happy to think about Snape asking what was distracting him. He did not want to admit that the Gryffindor Mudblood Princess was driving him crazy in her silent attacks.

He had tried everything to change his ambitions for the whole week, but his mind kept wandering to his conversation with Aurie and her spiteful worry for Hermione.

"We will be accessing it tonight" Snape snapped him out of his recollection, but Draco wouldn't let him continue, completely bewildered by the use of the Vanishing Cabinet for purposes not previously disclosed to him.

"I was under the impression that the cabinet was only to be accessed and used for testing purposes, whicH I have already completed, and for arranging the arrival of my aunt at year's end?"

It was Draco's turn to toy with Snape, or so he thought. Instead of entertaining his prompt, Snape rose from his slumped state and gripped Draco's arm firmly, forcing him to his feet harshly.

"I'm not playing boy. We have somewhere to be tonight" Snape's voice was vile and unwavering, and Draco didn't hesitate to follow him out of the office and into the corridor. "It's best you don't verbally say its location, the portraits are always listening, and the Dark Lord is less than forgiving in his use of legitimacy".

Snape hadn't released his hold on Draco's arm, instead he hid it under a combination of their robes, as Draco led him through the corridors into the Room of Requirement.

Before this year he could count the amount of times he'd visited the room where the lost things go on one hand. Even in his time with the Inquisitorial Squad, he'd only camped outside a few times. But now it seemed a bi-weekly occurrence that he let himself get lost in the castle to insist the walls reveal the brass door.

He saw the deep wooden steeple through the towers of junk and bee-lineed for it, Snape still firmly holding above his elbow so that he couldn't run for it even if he wanted to try.

Draco didn't ask questions until now, when he realised he would be being sent through alone, and he didn't know what awaited him on the other side. Someone would have to mutter the spell to send him through, meaning he was going alone.

"Professor? What is going on?" he asked as Snape released his arm to open the door.

"You've been requested at Borgin and Burkes for a meeting, along with any descent or relative of the Black family. I will send you through, and once you are there, you will bring me through, I've been entrusted to deliver you, and then return you as undisturbed" He said.

Snape's voice still helf no emotion, and the uncertainty left Draco with chills.

His entire family tree was being summoned to the Dark Lord's side, but for what?

"In" Snape commanded, as he practically shoved Draco into the Cabinet by his shoulders.

Once inside he noted that the air held no semblance of warmth like the castle air did. The inside was eerily silent, and didn't hear Snape mutter the spell to send him over, but he felt it.

His feet shook slightly, and he felt the familiar nauseous that usually accompanied apparition set in. That was nothing compared to the shrilling pain that burst from behind his eyes, blinding him momentarily in agony.

He gripped his head, and snapped his eyes shut. He felt like he'd been hit in the head with a bludger, and he briefly wondered if being inside the Cabinet itself was damaging, even without being sent over, and perhaps Hermione's concussion was lengthened by her brief moments slumped over inside.

When the shake in his feet halted, so did the searing pain in his head, leaving him only with a faint nauseous stomach and slight glean of sweat covering his body. He seated himself with his arm against the wood of the Cabinet's walls, and let the lingering fatigue wash through him and out.

He knew he had made it over. It was the feeling of fear inside him that gave it away. Knockturn Alley inspired fear, even when you couldn't see it, you could sense it. It made it worse not knowing what exactly awaited him behind the door.

Hesitantly, he opened the door. And to his surprise the room was empty. Room was strength, he thought, it was more of a large closet that the Cabinet was stored in to keep it away from prying eyes.

He stepped fully out to send Snape over. He figured that he would be more informative about the situation than the empty broom closet he was greeted with.

"Harmonia Nectere Passos" he muttered the spell almost inaudibly, and waited.

He heard a small thud, and Snape emerged from the Cabinet, unfazed by the nausea of pain that he had inevitably felt. He once again grabbed Draco by the arm and walked steadily to the closet door only a few feet away.

In one movement Draco watched as he pulled his sleeve up and pressed the tip of his want to the raised skin of his dark mark, and at once noise filled the room. Snape, still gripping Draco's arm with an iron-clad force, pulled the door open to reveal the inside of Borgin and Burkes shop. 

The room was dimly lit with candle light and filled with death eaters he recognized. He searched the room for this mother, as a member of the Black family she would be here, that is if Snape's reason for their trip was to be believed.

He didn't find her, and Snape continued walking, pulling him behind.

"Dolov, I have brought the Malfoy boy. Are they ready for him? I'm only permitted to have him out of the school for a few moments" Snape was even more calculated now than he had been with Draco earlier.

Antony Dolov looked between Snape and Draco, and Draco could barely recognize the man. Much like many death eaters his eyes were sunken in, and his cheekbones pliable against his skin from malnourishment. But he had taken it further, and shaved his head to be unrecognizable to wizarding society.

Antony looked longer on Draco than he did on Snape, eyeing him up. Draco instinctively gulped at the unknown result of tonight's outing.

"I think so, his mother's already in. Came on her own, did she, no sight of Lucious tonight" Antony chuckled trying to mock Draco for his father's absence. Draco wanted to spat at him.

"He's not required for tonight's proceedings Dolohov '' Snape spoke as he shoved past Dolohov and barged behind a thick black curtain that separated the sections of the store.

On the other side was a large round table, his mother was seated beside his aunt Bellatrix, and a few others were also seated at the table that he didn't recognize.

"Draco" he registered his mother, gripping him tightly in a hug.

"Mother what's going on?" he asked, returning her gesture.

"The Dark Lord has requested an... an evaluation... he feels the Black family tree is hiding something and he wants all remaining members subjectable, that is, to have their magical signature analyzed for tears or discrepancies" His mother voice was frail, and Draco worried that she was once again being starved in the Manor is his absence.

She didn't let his thoughts wander, and he wondered if his worry was splashed plainly on his face when she quickly began speaking again.

"You just have to let your Aunt cast the spell on you, then you can go" she looked at the ground, and he knew there was more than that. She was concealing something.

"Narcissa..." Snape's voice filled the voice in his mother's silence, "You have to tell him"

"Draco... it's going to burn. While it's happening it's going to feel like you are burning on the inside" she clutched his hand very hard, and he saw a few tears spill from her eyes.

He knew she'd already been subjected to it, her voice was still plainly frail, and although her hands were soft and strong in his; they were mildly trembling. He silently cursed Snape for not rushing him here sooner, so that he could have been there for his mother. The thought of his Aunt trying to console her sister didn't come easy, and he figured she was left a heap on the floor when it was finished, and left to recover on her own.

Snape guided Draco to the end of a table, his arm once again gripping him hard.

There was a masked Death Eater there, his wand already drawn and pointed at him. Snape released Draco, and stepped back. Draco could have sworn he saw him place a hand on his mother's shoulder. He coulndt decide if it was a comforting gesture, or a way to ensure she wouldn't lunge for him. He contemplated that perhaps it was both.

"Do not resist, do not occlude, and do not move" the masked Death Eater commanded Draco.

His wand was now touching his temple, and he heard his mother gasp as the wood made contact with his skin. He didn't turn to look at him, fearing the man's words about resisting or moving.

"Nocht Síniú" he nearly yelled the spell, Draco didn't recognise it.

At first he felt nothing, just a hot brush of air over his whole body. He considered the idea that his mother was so physically weakened that it had affected her more than it would affect himself. His hope dwindled away swiftly as he saw a strong glow emit from his chest and the burning began.

It felt like fire was creeping through his veins, hot and ashy and consuming him from the inside out. He'd never been subjected to the Crustias Curse but he figured this would rival its pain as he fell to his knees.

A low, growling scream surged from his chest as he fell, and he knew he had filled the room with sounds of torture.

The fire kept spreading, it felt like his fingers were gone from his body, and he thought his organs were melting inside him. He willed himself to keep his eyes open, wanting to know exactly what the spell was doing to him.

The glow that had emitted from his chest was now a floating orb of fire outside his body and hovering above his head. He didn't fully understand what the spell had done, but from the vague description his mother had given him, he estimated that he was viewing his own magical signature outside of his body.

He watched it suck itself back inside him, and he dropped suddenly. He caught his head from crashing into the wooden floors, and was left on his hands and knees, panting as the burning ridded itself from his body.

In an instant his mother was at his side, her arms flung around his shoulders, and her lips whispering encouragements mixed with apologies in his ear.

"Cissa, you said..." He briefly registered his Aunt's voice, but his mother cut her off.

"I know what I said Bella, and it is still true. It was there at one point, but it's gone now. The magic still lingers in him, you should know that just as well as I do" she was still frail, but there was a sense of urgent demand in her voice as she pleaded for her sister to shut up.

Draco, still panting, rose to his feet with the help of Snape's hand on his arm. For once, he was grateful that Snape was physically holding up because he wasn't sure he could support his own body weight at the moment. His mother still clung to his side, while shooting a dagger at his Aunt who looked fearfully shocked on the other side of the room.

"Narcissa you have to let him go, I have to take him back" Snape's voice wasn't vile this time, it felt comforting as Dracp understood that he was reassuring his mother that he would be taken back to Hogwarts safely.

It took a moment for her grip in his wand to falter, she clearly didn't want him to go back. But Draco knew that she knew it was safer at Hogwarts than at the Manor, even if the Vanishing Cabinet existed and the castle was crawling with dementors. The Manor often had Voldemort himself in it, so my elimination, he was safer.

Snape Guided him through the shop and back into the closet that held the Vanishing Cabinet, and brought him back to Hogwarts.

***

Snape had successfully brought him back physically in one piece, although it didn't feel that way.

There was a lingering burning sensation inside Draco. The memory of the spell left him with unanswered questions. He couldn't even recognise the spell that was used. It wasn't in Latin: he told himself. He had been forced to learn Latin at a young age, and he didn't recognize the sounds in that spell.

Snape had ensured he was physically cleared with a diagnostic spell before letting him wadner back to his dormitory. His limbs felt heavy, and he was certain his walk would ensue a laugh from his friends if they were near.

But Draco recognized the characteristics of midnight well. The deep sky, the littering of stars, the faint crickets, and the creak of the old castle floorboards under his step. No one would be awake right now, and if they were, they wouldn't be out of their common rooms due to new curfew restrictions.

He was actually thankful for the Senior Prefect perks in that moment. If a teacher came by, they wouldn't question why he was in the halls. This was the first time he had used the advantages awarded to him by the position.

When he reached the door, he was relieved that he didn't have to speak. His throat felt hoarse, and he wasn't sure if he would even be capable of speech. As he stepped through the threshold he noticed Hermione asleep in an armchair, and a book discarded in her lap, and he head slack against the armrest.

He chuckled slightly, feeling some happiness return to his body. He knew in his state he shouldn't be left alone, he wasn't stupid. The effects of this spell were unknown to him, and at any moment he feared the burning sensation would heighten and tear through him again.

He sat himself in the other armchair beside her, and picked up the book that was in her lap. It would annoy her that he had taken it from her, and he was counting on that. He was breaking rule number two: 'don't touch my things' - he recalled from her brief stint of bravery. She was likely going to lose her shit when she realized, and Draco chuckled quietly thinking of her trying to be a menacing presence. 

He still wanted to play her little game, and her absence the past week proved his attempts to be incredibly futile.

"The Psychological Response to Trauma: Edition 2" he read the title aloud to himself, seeing that muggle word again: 'psychology'.

He tried to focus on what she had said about the word, he was merely trying to distract himself from the night's events, and the confusion that consumed him alongside the burning fire. 'Keeping ourselves sane' - that was what he could remember. Sanity had never been his concern with this arrangement, but clearly it had been important enough to her, to purchase a muggle book about it.

He kept the book propped open to the page she was on, and read the chapter title- 'Stress and Nightmares'. He looked at her puzzled, she hadn't seemed to be wracked with nightmares, she was sleeping peacefully. In fact, deep in slumber, she looked the most relaxed and calm he had seen her all year. Before now, she always had a brow furrowed, or a fire of fear behind her eyes. But in her sleep she was so small and calm.

The bruise on her forehead was gone. Draco hadn't seen her enough to notice it anymore. Her hands were balled into fists at her sides, he figured it was a defensive tendey she picked up over the years.

He tossed the book to the side, and summoned his quilt from his room with a quick 'Accio'.

He intended to sleep on the chair, mostly for his safety. If he woke up to the burning, it would be easier to just throw something, probably her own book, at her and yell at her to get Snape. The other option was to then to struggle out of his bed, through his wards, and to the common area: the chair ,whilst uncomfortable, was a better option if he felt himself catching fire again. 

The lull of sleep tempted him, and soon enough he fell asleep, head slack against the armchair in a similar way to Hermione's, and her book on the table between them.


	6. Chapter 6: Burning

6th Year, September 27th

"It's your turn Draco" - the whispers krept up on him, screeching in his ear. The screaming voice was faint, the characteristic voice that stirred him, returning to intrude his brain.

"It's going to hurt Draco"- he recognised the next voice as safer, but couldn't place the person in the back of his head.

"You have your mission young Malfoy" - this one was more of hiss, that stung his ears - "complete your fathers failures"

He involuntarily shook at a faint scream in the distance. It felt so real, but so far away, like someone was in his head with him, but hidden the depths of his consciousness.

He heard the scream again, and this time it was louder, closer even. There was a clear gasp, and faint "no" that followed the scream. With each noise, it grew louder and closer to his existence.

The next scream woke him up. He jerked awake, still sitting in the armchair in the common room. The green quilt had fallen as he shook awake, and he was left sitting uncomfortably in the large armchair. The room was still dark, only the moonlight shined through the window, illuminating the area only slightly.

"No!" the scream came from beside him, where he found Hermione thrashing in her sleep.

She had discarded her blanket in her recklessness, and he noted her hair was sticking to the sides of her head as she bobbed around, shaking violently. Her legs were over the armrests, and her head rested on the other. Her arms were wrapped around her torso in the same protective manner they had been when Draco intimidated her on their first night in the room.

It only took him a moment to register the situation. She was having a nightmare, and was thrashing and screaming in her sleep. She was shaking so violently that he thought she might fall off the armchair, and jerk herself awake.

But she kept screaming, mumbling plea's and shaking in her spot.

She wasn't waking up.

He rose to his feet slightly. His legs still felt like jelly from the spell he had been hit with earlier, and he dropped to his knees in front of her chair.

She shifted as she unconsciously responded to his closeness, and her balled fists came up from her sides to try and thwart him defensively. He caught them in a swift motion, pinning them at her sides together with one of his hands.

"Granger" he whispered, but she only shook harder.

"Granger... Granger... wake up" he tried again, but nothing subsided.

He was getting annoyed. Apart from the fact that it took everything in his body to have moved from his armchair to try and calm her incessant thrashing, he felt the pang under his ribs as she kept shaking. He recognized the pang as the same feeling he had in the infirmary. He though she might fall again, and give herself another concussion; in his current physical state he was in no way capable of carrying her to Pomfrey again.

She screamed again, it pierced through his ears now that he was fully awake. Her scream was full of terror, more terror than he had ever heard come from her mouth.

He took his free hand, the one that wasn't holding her hands down, and grabbed her shoulder to try and nudge her awake.

"Hermione..." he drew his words calmly, trying not to heighten her terror.

Her eyes snapped open widley and there was anything but fire behind her scared orbs. She looked at Draco, and squealed in fear trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

"Shhhhh'' he started, being notably calm, but she barely changed her reaction. 

Her eyes scanned the room, noticing she was in the common area not her bedroom. She registered that her hands were being held down by him, and that Draco's other hand was gripping her shoulder tenderly.

He moved his hand away from her cold shoulder, and tucked one of her curls behind her ears. 

Hermione laid frozen at Draco's uncharastic kindness. As he drew back and gently released her balled fists from under his grip, she didn't make a move to swat him away like he expected.

She just stared up at him, in the same way she had in the Room of Requirement: scared but curious as to where he would go next.

" I think you were having a nightmare. You were thrashing around and I thought you might fall and hit your head again" he stated plainly, but there was a hint of worry behind his voice that he caught onto, and he prayed that she hadn't seen it.

She did catch it. He only knew because there was a flash of relief in her scared eyes as she recognised that he wasn't going to hurt her. She sat up gingerly, her hands still shaking slightly in her lap.

Draco returned his face to the hardened mask he usually had up, trying to lightly intimidate her, still wanting revenge for her tempt that first night. Especially after she had ignored his presence all week. But her shaking didn't subside like He expected, and his mask felt crumbly in his head as he watched her try to regain her presence without remembering her dream.

He internally smacked himself for going soft momentarily, and decided to smugly admit he had broken one of her rules.

"Here's your book..." he lulled, plucking it from the table ad placing it in her lap " ... I can see why you need it now" he smugly smirked at his comment.

"You look like Hell too, so I wouldn't be talking" her voice was soft, holding some of the terror of her dream, but still snarky enough to make his chest pang again.

"Well if you knew what I'd been through tonight I think you'd be rather impressed I'm still coherent and breathing, Granger" he smirked.

He decided that brutal honesty would tug on her kindness, and making her feel some pity would potentially tear her up inside even more than intimidation. Draco had always planned to play at her 'House Unity' fantasy, but intimidation came easier after her attempt at it. Reverting to his original plan felt even meaner than intimidating her, because trickery caused a more sincere reaction and more pain once the honest truth was revealed.

He noticed her reaction to him change at her words, and realised his plan to play at her empathy was working after all.

"Do you want to talk about it?" her words shocked Draco. He had expected a brief apology before she returned to try and make him, or push him away. He didn't predict this reaction, or that she would even consider asking if he was alright, or if he needed to talk his feelings out.

He scoffed. He didn't talk his feelings out.

"I'd rather forget it happened, the same way I predict you want to forget about your dream as well, and how I want to forget my monetary lapse of kindness" he continued, mixing his intimation with tricky kindness.

She seemed to ignore his recognition of his kinds, and decide to prod on.

"So it was a dream then? What's made your night bad?" she started again, dropping the book to the ground beside Dracos knees. He hand't moved since he woke her up, he didn't think he could again without the burning spreading.

"That and more" she said, cocking his head to the side, smirking like he was competing against her for trauma points.

"Is that why you're not moving?" she asked, looking down to his legs still planted on either side of her, now that she was sitting up with her legs dangling over the char's seat, her feet were between his knees on the floor.

He didn't respond, either verbally or by moving. And he understood then.

"You can't move, can you?" she asked, quieter this time, clearly unsure as to how we could react to her accusations.

She sounded worried, and Draco once again internally punched himself. He had been kind and shown worry towards her, and now she felt it was the nature of their relationship to do so. It wasn't even a momentary lapse like he had said, he knew the pang in his chest was the same as he had in the infirmary. Now she thought he had genuine concern for her well-being. 

"Again with all the questions Granger" he snarled, raising his voice to avoid her now worried eyes scanning him for injuries. he would given anything to be able to get up, walk away smugly, and pretend this night never happened.

His voice had no affect on her, and she continued looking over his body for dried blood, bruises peaking through from under his t-shirt, or any signs that he was magically bound in any way. At his understanding that she wasn't going to stop her search for injury, he sighed and resigned himself to simply telling her the truth, or partial truth.

"You're not going to find anything" he spoke lowly, soft enough not to scare her, but still commanding her to stop. "It's internal, a spell I didn't even recognise" he closed his thought and her eyes grew wide.

"What did it feel like? Maybe I can go to the library?" she asked.

"You're being characteristically kind Granger, but I must say I'm usually not the one your are usually directing your worry at. May I ask why?" he relied.He knew the answer, but he wanted other her say something different. 

He was purposely avoiding her question, not sure of how secret he was meant to keep the vents of tonight. He assumed relatively quiet was the rule, but he had already slipped and told her that the spell was unrecognisable.

He knew that tanged her curiosity, and rippled through her brain. The fact that she wasn't in Ravenclaw did in fact baffle him, her cleverness and need or knowledge seemed to fit there better, but he supposed her lack of fear in the face of knowledge did fit her House.

She wasn't going to give up now, and he knew it. He had inadvertently given her a quest, that she would be eager to fulfill.

"I told you, I would like to keep my sanity, and ignoring you won't work forever, and intimidating you clearly didn't work either. Co-existing might have to work for them, and kindness is a part of that. The worry is simply that you are in fact a human being, and I would prefer you didn't drop dead out of pure respect for nature" she replied smoothly, her voice gave away that she had almost fully recovered from her nightmare.

He assumed that her quick recovery meant that she had these dreams regularly, and her inability to wake herself up, likely meant that they usually got worse before she woke up eventually.

"Hmm, did you decide that while you moped around all week?" he kept nudging her with his voice, trying to make her uncomfortable, but still made her hope that she was cracking his exterior.

"Well I talked with some people, but yes..." she spoke a little shyer now " ... just tell me something, then I'll get off your back and let you sleep on the floor seeing as you can't move anywhere else" she smirked at her last comment, clearly trying to make him upset.

"Fine" he huffed, and he saw the clear excitement her face displayed.His conversation with Aurie made a little more sense now. Hermione had talked to her, and Aurie seemed to favour her not ignoring him for eternity. 

"It felt like fire, like I was burning from the inside out. Does that help you?" he snared, and looked away from her.

He didn't want to look at the pity that was no doubt plastered around her. He knew it was bad, how he felt, but he didn't need her confirmation that his torture would enact sympathy in anyone who he told. 

He didn't want to feel as broken as his body felt.

"Draco.." she started. He saw her raise her slightly shaky hand to reach out for him.

In one movement, he grabbed her wrist and pinned it beside her head against the back of the velvet armchair. His eyes narrowed into slits, and he bent his head to look down taher and growled under his breath in anger.

The anger he felt that first night had returned. Instead of a reaction to her intimidating him, it was a reaction to her pit of him. It ripple through his body, giving him a small amount of strength to lean his whole body hovering over hers in the chair, his knees still frozen against the carpet as he knelt.

"Do not pity me, Granger" his breath was hot as it fanned over her, and he knew the kindness had slipped away in his voice, and he only sounded angry.

Her relief at his kindness before had vanished, and was since again replaced with fear as he held her hand by her wrist. He dug his nails slightly into her wrists to assert his strength against her.

"Fine" she met his anger equally and tried to stand. But his grip on her wrist stopped him. Even as the burning sensation returned to his body, as he exerted force against her, he held her down, keeping her in the chair.

"You do not get to try and toy with me. You don't get to try and intimidate me, then annoy me with questions, and then say it is all in the vain of kindness. Pick one!" he was nearly screaming now.

"Fine", she growled, the fear returning to her voice as well.

He released her wrist and she stood and practically ran to her room. She slammed her door so much it shook the door frame unde the force.

Draco looked down at his hands where the burning was concentrated. He saw another piece of her hair tangled in the hand that pushed her curls from her face, and he compulsively smiled down.

He couldn't move, but something in his head told him to apologise to her. The other side of head told him she should be thankful that he had woken her up and out of the dream.

It was her fault really: he thought to himself. He had been kind after being too drained to be angry, and she had returned his kindness with taunts forcing out his anger again and making him scare her. She was only scared due to her own actions now.

He dropped his head to the seat of the armchair as a headache krept up on him from the internal battle of making an attempt to apologize, or making her regret her actions once again.

The burning climbed its way up his spine, and fueled his headache.

He wanted to sleep. He wanted so desperately to be able to lull himself back into sleep and pray that the screaming whispers wouldn't return in his unconscious state. But he was too awake now. Radiating with anger on the outside, and burning with the remnants of magic on the inside.

His limbs still felt heavy, even more so as his anger seemed to fuel the burning.

He resigned himself to sitting on the floor, his head resting on the seat of the chair, and watching the clock tick until morning.

6:30 it read. He assumed Hermiones wouldn't be going back to sleep either, instead getting ready really early to leave for the library to avoid more time in his presence.

That little bit of information would spark her curiosity and he knew she would try and find every spell that had 'fire sensation' or 'internal burning' and a side effect.

Sun beams started to shine through the window by the window seat. It was an unwelcome warmth as it filled the room. Draco wanted to retreat to cool air, or a cool shower, anything really that would take away the burning heat under his skin. He wanted cool water, or ice, or a cooling charm. Anything to take away the fire.

He looked at the clock some time later.

7:15.

Hermione would be out of her room soon.

In her week of avoiding him he had learned her pattern. She would leave her room at 7:20-ish, and go straight for the door, not even stopping at the bookshelf.

At 7:20 she walked out of her room like clockwork. But unlike clockwork, she stopped on her doorway, noticing Draco's slumped frame still over the armchair that she had slept on.

"Can you still not move?" she asked him, the fear gone, and was replaced with a questioning nicety.

"What is it you? Just go to the Great Hall and gloat about how your roommate is slumped over the chair in pain. I'm sure Potter and Weasley will beg for a photograph" he briddled his voice in sarcasm, but still slightly hoped she had in any way come up with a way for him to be able to move his legs.

"You asked me to choose how to treat you. It matters to me because I've chosen to take the high road and be nice" she stated matter-of-factly, she continued though "Something I'm sure you've never accomplished. Now, is there a professor that knows whatever the Hell you were up to last night, and might be able to help?"

He sighed annoyed, knowing that like the only way he was going to be able to move was for her to get Snape.

"Professor Snape is aware of my whereabouts last night, he will know" he sighed again, giving her the necessary information.

"I guess it's not necessary to say 'stay here' while I go get him is it?" She giggled in response, looking back at his frozen figure still now sitting upwards, but knees still plastered in the exact stance as hours earlier.

If this is her idea of 'nice': then what the hell is her idea of mockery? He thought as he slipped through the arch and out into the hall.

She was only gone a few minutes, shockingly short actually: he thought to himself. But he figured that perhaps Snape was lingering in the halls near their room in order to ensure Draco had lived through the night, likely on his mother's request.

Draco felt the wards shift when she returned. He had assumed that Professor Snape had explicit permission to enter the room, after all he still was Draco's Head of House.

"Miss Granger, please leave us" the sound of Snape's shrill voice asking Hermione to leave confirmed to Draco that the wards had permitted him entrance.

"I think I'm going to stay Sir. He stayed with me after I was injured in the infirmary, I'd like to return the gesture" Her response was still, but kind.

He knew that wasn't why she wanted to stay.

While there may have been some true kindness in her decisions, he knew she wanted more in-tell as to where he was and what happened. She was pushy, and clever, and she knew Snapae could technically force her to leave, but she persisted in her intention by sitting in the armchair that Draco had slept on.

Snape didn't respond or chastise her, instead he ignored her presence and moved over to where Draco was kneeling.

"When did the burning return?" he asked vaguely.

"It never really left...." He panated, the burning increased as he tilted his head to look forwards, " ... it was subsiding for a while, but when I moved to sit like this... I... I can't move my legs anymore... and the fire returned in my head.... And in my fingers mostly" he was out of breath as the fire maintained its heat in his body, once again giving the sensation of melting his insides.

Hermione looked slightly scared from her position on the armchair. She had brought her knees up to her chest so that her whole body fit on the seat, and she learned forwards so that she had a view of Snape and Draco.

He recognized her fear, the fire in her eyes, but its intended target was new.

She wasn't scared of him.

She was scared for him.

Draco looked between Snape and Hermione. The contrast in their faces was stark. Where Hermione was frightened and combusting with worry, Snape was chilled and calculated, so much so that Draco thought that he might be occluding.

"Alright, it's likely that the spell..." Snape paused, looking in Hermione's reaction, remembering to keep a level of secrecy to the conversation, "lingered in your body for too long, or wasn't removed properly. I will try something, but if that doesn't work" he paused again, looking down pointedly at him, "I will have to perform it again to concentrate it before removing it fully intact" .

Draco winced, remembering the true fire that the spell enacted. If he was burning up now, the feeling of the spell being performed was like being incinerated.

Snape pointed his wand at Draco's temple in a similar way the masked Death Eater had when he performed the spell.

"Nocht Agus Bain" he said, and a small stream of white mist shot from his wand, and into Draco's temple.

He heard Hermione gasp behind his closed eyes. But the fire kept burning with no noticeable change.

"Any changes?" Snape asked as he drew his want back.

"No" Draco was still panting, now from both the pain of the sensations, but also from holding in his breath during Snape's attempt to undo the spell.

"Miss Granger I'm going to have to insist you not be present for this next part" Snape wasn't asking her this time, he was demanding that she leave.

He wouldn't perform the spell with her there, Draco knew it was too secretive and likely illegal. For his own sake, he looked over to her and let a pleading look fall on his face, asking her nonverbally to leave so that it would end.

He stood up with a sigh, and gave him a weak smile before retaining her room. He knew she wouldn't actually leave, she was too curious and too stubborn. His brief encounters had at least shown him that much about her. He only willed that her disappearance from the common room was enough for Snape to get the spell over with.

"You remember the feeling of the spell I assume. I will only perform it for a few seconds, and hopefully that won't be long enough for you to be blacked out. One of your relatives had been subjected to it twice and it knocked her out the second time. It appears repeated exposure is much harsher on the body than one-time use".

Draco noted that Snape didn't sound hopeful about his prospects after the spell was completed and got rid of. He snapped his eyes shut and squeezed his hands into fists at his sides, ready for the exposure to fire once again.

"Nocht Síniú" Snape repeated the words and the spell took instantly.

Unlike the tien previously there was no waiver of the spell's intensity, it surged through his faster the sound and ground deep into his bones. The agonizing scream that erupted from his mouth was surely audible if anyone was in the corridor, and he knew Hermione could hear.

He felt the fire creep up his legs. Starting as a dull burn in his toes, and reached through his muscles and his bones as it crept up and intensified up to his hips. He felt his fingers numb in pain, and his head fell back as another scream rippled in his chest, as the sensation of brown ribs echoed in his abdomen.

He didn't open his eyes to see the ball of fire radiate off him and disintegrate above his head as Snape drew his wand back and Draco toppled over, once again landing on his hands and knees, similar to how he landed in Borgin and Burkes shop.

He panted. Out of relief this time.

He could no longer feel the burning in his core, or the fire at his fingertips.

"It's gone" he breathed longly, and Snape nodded at him, looking slightly relieved.

"Miss Granger you are free to come out now" Snape called as he opened the door and left the common room, leaving Draco a painting pile of limbs on the middle of the floor, and Hermione standing shell shocked in her doorway.

"What the Hell was that?" she breathed, unsure of how to interact with him in his current state.

"How much did you hear?" he answered her question with a question.

"More than I think I was intended to" she had moved to step closer to him and was bending over to look over his broken frame. She stalled her next response " ... do you... do you want some tea? I don't know how I can help... But... but at the very least, tea has a calming effect" she was wary in her offer.

Draco felt so deflated that a cup of tea actually sounded quite nice in the moment, if not to calm himself down, but to fill his stomach.

He wondered how much she had actually heard. There was no doubt she had harem him scream, but that wouldn't warrant her response. - 'more than I was intended to'- that implied she heard everything, and that meant she was definitely going to research that spell.

"Tea is okay, Granger" he responded, trying to sit up. He succeeded and pulled himself to sit on the floor, using the wall beside him as a backrest.

She nodded quickly and shyly and moved into the kitchenette to brew tea, chamomile no doubt, if she intended to calm him: he thought.

Calm was most definitely not how he felt at the moment. He expected a rush of coolness to wash over him once the spell's effects had worn off, but instead of the burning sensation, he now felt like he was overheating.

He reached his hand to neck, grasping and humbling at the top buttons of his color, trying to free himself of the suffocating heat of his shirt. The breeze that washed down his toros once the top button were loose almost made him gasp.

When Hermione returned with the tea, she sat calmly beside him as he put the teacup and saucer in her lap.

"You don't have to stay," he whispered. He knew he sounded weak, and his throat was hoarse and dry from screaming.

"Considering you are still on the ground, I think I should" she giggled.

He huffed at her new found calmness in his presence.

"Why are you being nice? And don't you dare say it's human to human decency. That's bullshit!" His attempt at subtle intimidation fell to deaf ears, the weakness took over, and instead he sounded desperate for an answer.

"I told you I'm taking the high road" he started, refusing to look at him. "Besides I wasn't lying about returning the gesture, you did stay with me".

She turned her gaze from the kitchen to her fingers which played with the hem of her school skirt at her knees. She had tucked her knees into her body, sitting similarly to how she had been on the chair when Snape was trying to rid him of the spell the easy way.

He looked down at her, taking a big guld of the sweet tea, not caring about the scalding temperature at the back of his throat. It was nothing compared to the hoarseness and fire that had been there previously.

He noted that she added honey to the tea.

"How much of that did you actually her Granger?" he asked, still looking at the top of her head, where she had pulled her curls into a messy bun at the base of her head.

She looked up to meet his eyes sheepishly. She looked worried about how her response would change his demeanour, but she spoke anyway.

"Enough to know what language it is"


	7. Chapter 7: The High Road

6th Year, September 28

Hermione's reveal that the spell was Irish, likely Celtic or Gaelic in dialect, left the spell's interpretation pretty much obvious. And now, after she spent hours in the Library, with Draco hovering nearby, there was no doubt in his mind that she knew exactly what the spell did.

He wasn't sure how to react when she accurately guessed it in the dormitory when they returned at nightfall.

\- 'I think it reveals a person's magical signature' - she said once they were through the threshold. 

\- 'I'm not allowed to tell you if you are right or not' - he responded, nodding in her direction.

\- 'Draco the words literally mean "Reveal Signature" in the Celtic dialect! There's no if i'm right, I am right' - he sighed, knowing she knew, but unwilling to give her the satisfaction of an approval.

When she asked why the spell had been performed on him in the first place, he actually answered truthfully. Or semi-truthfully. He didn't say where, or who had performed it, but only that the Black Pureblood line was in question, and that he had been requested for an evaluation. 

\- ' Do you know why?' - she asked after he told her.

\- 'Do I know why, what?' - he responded, growing clearly annoyed at her questions. He knew she had no intentions to stop, she was sprawled on the floor, surrounded by checked-out library books, and had a scroll covered in ideas and translations.

\- ' Why your family line is in question?' - her question raised the initial confusion Draco had felt when he was told that his family connection was being tested. Before he could answer she spoke again.

\- ' Do you not want to know why? I mean you've boasted your whole life running around praising your Pureblood status, even degrading others for their inferior types. But now that your status is called into question, you don't particularly seem to care that your supposedly pure blood, might not even be pure?' - her voice nagged something in Draco, the confusion spiked again and he looked down at her books.

\- 'What does it say about a ball of fire?' - he asked, avoiding her accusation that his blood could be tainted. Logically he knew that Voldemort requesting the family line's blood be tested menat he assumed there was a tractor of impure relative in the midst, but he refused to acknowledge the possibility.

\- 'Nothing actually. I didn't find the exact spell, but this old Celtic book says something about a bloodline ritual to test for legitimate heirs. I think it's a variation of that, that family lines have similar magical signature's. It says the feelings of burning, dryness, and fire are normal, but it says the magical signature is usually a glowing orb of gold' - she responded to his question, allowing him to avoid the topic of his blood status. He was, after all, allowing her dirty blood in his presence, and he concluded that it was only nice of her to let him engage in the conversations he sought appropriate.

That conversation ended there, and Draco retreated to his room for the night, leaving her laying on the ground and intently translating the Celtic ruins.

That was last night. It was Mid-Sunday and Hermione had left the common room, breaking for the first time from her studying, and declared she had promised Harry and Ron she would watch Gryffindor Quidditch try-outs.

Draco barely looked at her as she left, relieving in the fact that she would be out of the room for a few hours and he could think straight without her constant questions. He tried to brush them off as much as possible, but he noticed when he gave her a sliver of information, she should be quiet for a longer period of time than when he gave her nothing to think about.

His idea to play at her 'House Unity' fantasy seems to be working as he noted that she didn;t have an aversion to being in the same room as him. It clearly still bothered her though, she would constantly shift in her seat, or make an excuse to grab something from another room. But still, it was progress in draco's eyes.

His attempts to make her trust him had initially started out of necessity, he couldn't risk his cover being blown to the professors if Hermione suspected he had ill-intentions. He abided by her rules, mostly, and stayed out of her way, unless she provoked him. He figured if she was able to crack the spell that had been used on him, and the firefly explosion that followed it, then perhaps he could use her intelligence for other purposes further down the road.

Her question about his knowledge of his own blood status hung around his head as he watched the quidditch pitch from the window seat.

It really did have an incredible view. He could clearly make out the House viewer boxes, and Teacher's boxes. The hoops were clearly defined, especially by the soft glow of the setting sun, and he saw the unmistakable movements of the red Gryffindor quidditch robes as they flew around the stadium.

The view wasn't clear enough to make out people though. He couldn't tell who was dangling by the end of their broomstick, hovering near the goalposts. He assumed the beaten down player was going from Keeper, and failing at it miserably. His eyes couldn't find Hermione as they lingered on the stands for a moment. There were only a few people, but the blurry definitions had him guessing which outline was hers.

He was guessing the figure in a pink jumper was her, he had noticed a flash of the color as she left the room. His eyes watched the try-outs intelty. He wasn't going to play this year and it made him swallow his sadness slowly. He didn't want to play if he wasn't Captain, especially against Gryffindor after Pooter had won the title of Captain for his team that year.

At the very least he wanted to scope out any competition for the Slytherins. He noticed that the falling Keeper-wannabee had regained his balance and was now sitting firmly again on the broom. Draco couldn't tell if his defensive techniques were working in any way, even as he squinted to try and make out specific details in the blurry, now shadowing figures.

He saw several people leave as the sun disappeared behind the cloudy night-willing sky and never returned. Her little pink figure stayed fixed in her position.

He tore his eyes away from the window as the clouds began to blur his view of the pitch when the dark sky overtook the sun. With the burning eradicated from his body for more than twenty-four hours he was back to his usual self. That meant his head was full of questions, heighetend only by Hermione's incessant and nonstop nagging all of Saturday.

He would have escaped to the Slytherin Common Room to be with Blaise and Theo, but McGongell had informed them that their first set of reports were due on Monday. McGonagell insisted that they had to be completed together. So amidst his determination to file all the Prefect's hourly markings in the Library, Hermione had insisted on finding exactly what the spell did, prolonging their report with her constant questions and failed Celtic translations.

When she had finally cracked it, Draco felt a small sense of relief that he didn't need to have a guard up at all times in his own room.

She may have known what it did, but the logical explanation as to why the spell was cast on him still pressured her questions further.

He had to admit that now in his right frame of mind, he was also growing very curious as to why his family line's purity was in question. His parents were both from the puebloods from the Sacred 28 families. He knew that his mother's sister had been disowned for marrying a muggle born, and his second cousin Sirius Black was disowned, and was heavily entwined with the Order of the Phoenix before his death last year.

He recalled his mother refusing to eat the week after Sirius' death. She was ordered by the Death Eaters occupying the Manor to stay in her room or study, to avoid being seen in her state. Mourning a blood traitor would surely be cause for concern in Voldemort's eyes.

Perhaps her momentary lapse of grief left the Dark Lord questioning the families loyalties? He thought to himself.

But that didn't answer why the family pureblood status was in question. Loyalties were one thing, but blood status and blood relations were another. They had tested his magic to see if it lined up with the family tree - but they hadn't told him if he had passed the test or not.

If he hadn't, he supposed he might not be breathing at the moment. If there was something irregular witnessed, he would likely be dead already. But his Aunt's surprise when he came to flickered that idea into a flame in his mind.

Perhaps there was something irregular about his signature?

His mother had swiftly defended him, and seemingly herself. Snape never addressed anything, just made sure he was alive and mostly coherent before sending him on his way.

Draco knew he wasn't likely going to get any information from Snape. Despite Snape's verbal confirmation to being his Mentor, and subtle promise to keep him safe and ensure his success to his Mother, he knew his professor was a closed book. Without Snape's guidance about the crude events of Friday evening, Draco was left with nothing.

His friends knew he had a mission from the Dark Lord, but Draco had been forbidden to speak of it to his peers. They knew about the Vanishing Cabinet - Blasie had put Freaking Granger in it within the first week of Hogwarts - but they didn't know exactly why it was there, or how to use it.

Draco supposed he could still ask for their help researching topics to help him. But he'd have to be vague and convoluding, which would lead them nowhere given their mediocre academic prowess. Theo had barely passed his O.W.L.S enough to take certain classes this year, Draco was certain if Snape was still teaching Potions then Theo would not have been permitted to take it.

Blaise was decently book-smart, but he needed direct instruction in order to succeed, Draco doubted a vague description of a research topic would lead him to an answer. Pansy was similar to Blaise, decently smart but needed guidance; on top of which she was easily distracted, and if she found a more 'interesting' topic, human or book, she would immediately go off her search to pursue her new interest.

His friends would be absolutely no help, and Snape would likely push him away if he asked.

Then there was her.

She was interested enough in researching it, hadn't shut up about it really: he thought. And she knew the basic components about why he wanted to research his family line. She also had more knowledge about the situation than his friends, due to her eavesdropping on Snape's performance of the spell, he wouldn't need to hide as much from her.

He could use her clever brain and eagerness to get along with him to get him the answers he needed. Then, if they found one, he could request Dumbledore for a sitting, and get to know the Old Wizard's guards to be able to off him later on.

The sequence made chronological sense in Draco's mind: Exploit Hermione's brain - get an answer- use said answer to spend time with Dumdbledore - learn his personal guards and tendencies - use that knowledge to off him.

It wasn't fool-proof, but it was more than he currently had, and it would make his living situation bearable if he gave into Hermione's curiosity and allowed her to research whatever she wanted.

Draco's curiosity as to why he had been subjected to such an intrusive spell was lingering.

He directed his attention to the scroll of parchment in his lap; the reports that need to be completed by tomorrow morning. Hermione had thrusted the rest of the Prefect hourly tracking in his lap when she left for the Quidditch pitch, and now he was left to finish them off the weekly synopsis alone.

***

6th Year, September 28th

"Are you serious?" Hermione's eyes lit up like a child's eyes on Christmas.

"Wipe that smile off your face, Granger. Don't make me regret this" He snarled back. He knew he wouldn't regret letting her basically solve all of his problems for him, but he would regret his decision if it made her insufferably happy all of the time, that had not been the goal.

Hermione looked up to meet Draco's eyes and nodded profusely as to silently say she would be civil.

He didn't ask her help until after Monday's meeting with McGonagell where they had to give their first full report. Much to Draco's dismay, Dumbledore had not been present for the event, and he was forced to commence in avidly boring conversation.

She was practically buzzing with excitement at Draco's exclamation that he wanted her to help him find out why his family line's purity was in question. She had brought her arms up to her chest, but not defensively like she had before, it was a happy reaction, almost a squeal. That made him chuckle, as she ran into her room and returned not a second later.

Her arms were topped with books, and loose parchments were hanging out of some of them, acting as both a bookmark and a tally sheet.

"Okay step one is researching what a magical signature reveals, and potentially finding out why yours was a ball of fire" she stated matter-of-factly, handing him the Celtic translations she had managed as he slung himself on an armchair. She was sprawled on the floor again, surrounded by her books and works.

"You've thought of steps?" he asked her, looking down at the parchment.

"I was going to try and figure it out anyways" she started, looking up to meet his eyes, a soft sympathetic look rippled through her eyes. He hated it.

"Harry is convinced that you've taken the Dark Mark and that you are a Death Eater..." he lulled, glancing at his arm where his sleeve was rolled ro reveal is blank smooth arms "... well you clearly don't. I supposed seeing you on Friday made you seem soft, almost explaining why you're such a git all the time if that's what you go through '' she finished still looking at him sympathetically, though he caught her glancing between his face and his arams.

She seemed shocked that he didn't have the mark. He supposed that some part of her may have believed Potter's claims.

He didn't want to address the fact that she now viewed him as soft after he woke her promptly from a dream, and proceeded to lay paralyzed from pain for hours in the common room. Helplessly lying there until she had delivered him help. The mortification if any of his friends found out about the ordeal, or her new found 'softness' toward him might kill him on the spot.

"Wouldn't be the first time Potter's assumed something wrongly of me" he decided unbridled cockiness would steer her eyes away from sympathetic eyes, even if it meant she would argue with him. Anything was better than her big hazel eyes attempting to console him after his pained state. "As I recall, he assumed I had opened the Chamber of Secrets in second year when it had in fact been his best friend's baby sister" he taunted her, and he noticed her fists ball slightly.

That clearly touched a nerve: the thought.

"Yes well he's not very observant, or.. .He's too observant of the wrong things perhaps" he tone was dripped with fake agreeance. 

There was rage hidden behind it that she was trying to conceal, but draco saw right through it. Her idea of taking the high road was clearly giving her some troubles.

"What are you steps Granger? Seeing as how you intended to find out all my family secrets and possibly not even inform me of any impending doom" He brought the conversation back, hoping her rage would subside and he could start using her cleverness to get him some answers. 

"We have to know why your magical signature was a ball of fire. At first I thought that the Celtic books description of a 'gold orb' might just be fire. But seeing as it is a primitive technology, I doubt they would have any troubles recognizing it. Finding out why could be on a few different paths: one, more Celtic textbooks and specific sub searching of magical signatures and family lines. I bet there is some description of a family line's specific magical signatures somewhere in the restricted sections. Option two is we immediately start looking at magical maladies that have genetic components and take a good look at your family tree"

She seemed to talk forever, but Draco's attention never wavered. He wanted, no, needed to know exactly what they were going to research, and just how potentially unimpressed the professors would be.

Magical signatures were a pretty foreign concept to him. They were talked briefly about in 5th year History of Magic in the Lineage coursework, but only skimmed because testing signatures were usually reserved for fetal healers at St Mungoes. They had adopted a muggle machine that let them see babies inside of women, and if the baby was magical, the image on the screen glowed. Draco thought the whole idea of it quite creepy and invasive to the mother and baby.

Researching his family tree would likely be easy enough, there were records available to the public of the Sacred 28 Pureblood families, and some textbooks even had certain family trees in them still. It was finding abnormalities that would be the struggle. They were usually erased from records on a whim, and family members were burned from the archives for disobedience, treason, or being a squibb.

Magical maladies often showed up in infants. Draco figured if he was sick as a child then the effects would have worn off and not produced the strange ball of fire, unless he hadn't been cured and the fire lingering on his magical signature was a symptom.

All of which dampened on knowing if the Black, and technically Malfoy, line's magical signatures wasn't fire.

If it was, then the research meant nothing. But his Aunt and Mother's reactions, and the lingering effects the spell had on Draco's body had insinuated that something was off.

"Get these from the Library with week Draco" she nodded, barely glancing up from her books now. She was too enthralled by the texts to even move her bottom half, instead holding out the ripped piece of parchment and awaiting him to reach for it himself.

He took it, and looked over the list.

"Granger, half these books are in the restricted section. Seeing as how neither of us are 17, this will prove rather difficult" he retorted.

"Why do you think I've asked you. Figured you'd be able to convince a seventh year better than I would. Most the girls fawn over you, as I've already made clear"

She was still busying herself with the books, but she spotted a wicked smile under her mane of curls. She didn't even imply anything other than him as cunning, which he was, he prided himself on embodying the Slytherin values, but it rubbed him the wrong way.

"I think you'd have more luck seducing a seventh year than I would Granger. Don't think any of the boys swing that way unfortunately" he tried to subtly get back at her for her comment.

It was working. She shifted again in her seat, clearly uncomfortable.

"It doesn't need to be a boy, or a girl, it doesn't really matter. Just get the dam books, Draco" she huffed, and moved her bottom half for the first time in what felt like hours. She didn't even gather her books as she went into her room, discomfort written plainly on her face.

Draco was left sitting in the armchair with a maze of books on the floor to navigate if we wanted to leave.

She'd done that on purpose, he knew that for certain. She knew that if he was desperate enough to ask her for help, then he wouldn't risk smudging her drying translations on the floor. She left them on purpose.

He picked up the closest parchment to him, his lap now littered with the books and parchments she had given him to read.

He noticed that she was routinely detailed, even in her external academic research. Every parchment was dated, even by section, and gave textbook numbers for where the information came from. He happened to pick up her notes of the description he gave of the fire ball he had seen expelled from his body when the spell was conducted the first time: his magical signature, as he had worked out.

She had a few things scribbled down.

\- Gold vs Fire -

\- 'orb óir a scaoiltear ón gcorp', translates to: gold orb released from the body -

\- no Celtic records of fire as a family's genetic signature-

\- celtic word for fire is 'tine'-

\- is there a blend of families genetics in the signature?-

Draco kept reading on. She had written down a few alchemy formulas and spells that were known to produce a contracted and controlled flame by a castor. The spells were more interesting to him. He had been put under a spell, and no potion or other factor had influenced his reaction.

\- fiendfire-

-reducto maxima (on impact with sparks)-

-indecio-

Underneath the common spells she had written the spell that had been cast on him.

-Nocht Siniu -

\- the celtic spell could be varied from and combined with more common spells to create the signature reveal that causes fire if it detects an abnormality -

\- the fire itself could be the abnormality-

She had written down a few theories, all of which he was pretty certain were not in fact true. Most of which were combinations of revealing spells, fire charms, and few darker blood or genetic tied spells. But all of them didn't fit into the Celtic translations she had found that she was certain was the spell's origin.

At the very bottom of the page she had written his name, big and bold and underlined. She had his family names: Black and Mafloy, and left blanks under a few question marks such as: magical maladies, genetic predispositions, and dark curses.

-Draco Malfoy-

-Black family line in question, Malfoy family line not-

\- Mother's genetic link-

\- subjected to dark magic at any point might cause a reaction-

\- magical maladies: unknown-

-scribbled out word-

\- backfire from a dark curse he casted-

Draco gripped the parchment tightly.

His nails pressed in and dented the sides as his vice grip tightened. She wasn't intending on just studying the magic, she was intending on studying him.she had theories that it was his mother's link to him that caused his burning sensations that lingered and the ball of fire that erupted from him.

He knew that his genetic link was important, the family was being tested not just him. But he had seemingly been the only one to have the reaction that he did. If his mother had, she had retrieved very quickly; which he doubted dueto her frail condition. His aunt had no reaction, and everyone was shocked at the ball of fire that sprouted from his core when the spell made contact with him.

Naturally he assumed there was something unique about his reaction. But Hermione already started her theories about him, and he was enraged that she so much as thought that he could be the cause of his own pain in some twisted way.

He looked to her door but she hadn;t come out since he teased her with the idea of seducing s seventh year to get into the restricted sections. Servers her right: he thought. She had once again been the instigator, and he had only followed suit.

He looked down to the parchment, where his name and her ideas were staring back at him. Underneath magical maladies there was one word crossed out heavily with ink.

Draco squinted heavily, bringing the parchment closer to his face. Whatever theory she had conducted , she had clearly thought at least one possibility to be so outlandish that even she didn't think he fit the description. His quinting proved futile, and he brought the parchment up to the candlelight to try and read through the back and the smeared ink.

Bingo.

He didn't recognise the word, it seemed bade up and the sounds it made as he rolled it off his tongue didn't sound like the Celtic Dialect that Hermione had been reading all weekend. It sounded more like English but fake, perhaps it was a muggle word like the 'psychology' she had told him about: he thought.

He read it aloud again, confused as he attempted to point his wand and test if it was a spell. It did nothing as he moved his wand in a few basic directions.

Dropping the parchment, and his wand along with it. He sighed as he fell back into the armchair, his legs parted in exasperation, and his mind buzzing on overlad with the theories she had written down.

The word kept buzzing through his head. It clearly hadn't been important enough for Hermione to even consider it longer than she had thought. But the uncertainty regarding her study of him left him wanting to know every possibility she had conjured up about him, and why.

For the second time in a row he lulled himself to sleep on the armchair in the common room, not even summoning a quilt from his room. Instead he relished in the cool air against his skin, it was a welcomed contrast to the burning veins he had experienced not so long ago.

The word still prickled in his brain, and when he found slumber, the parchment flashed in his vision, the word clear as day.

-Obscuris-


	8. Chapter 8: Honey Soap

6th Year, October 3rd

"Ayy Man, we've barely seen you all week" Theo's yell took Draco from his trance.

"Yeah, McGonagell had me and Granger doing the report all weekend" he responded, not looking up from his dinner plate.

"That doesn't account for the past 4 days! It's Thursday!" he shot back, clearly displeased at his absence.

Draco knew he'd been rather absent. 

Snape had been on his ass to come up with more of a plan than to use Hermione for intel and leverage. Hermione had come to him with about 4 theories already, and each time it took over thirty minutes for her to explain, an hour to disprove it, and even before then she had to wait until he left his room because the wards he had in place blocked the sound.

He'd gone to classes, to meal times, even hung out in the Slytherin Common room with Blaise one night.

But he felt so off.

He heard the screaming whispers in his head often. Not just when he slept anyways, he heard them when he zoned out, or lost control of his mind. They sounded different every time, like it was someone new speaking to him, and each voice had a certain mantra.

The hissing crude voice always told him to replenish the Malfoy Legacy. It told him he needed success for his family's sake, to uphold their survival in the magical hierarchy.

The female, deranged voice, that sounded wispy and far off, always spurred threats at him. Warnings should he fail, or need assistance in completing his mission.

The strong, dependable, and raspy voice pleaded with him for success. Distinctly male in tone, It would offer suggestions that Draco's consciousness had already procured and dismissed. Or it offered help, a means to an easy end for him that wouldn't taint his soul with death and darkness.

There was only one voice that Draco could solemnly recognize.

His Mother.

She came singing, her voice like a welcome hum in his ear, a sweet change from the horrors of the others. She was filled with fear, and pleaded with him to be safe, return home alive, and warned him about the darkness that was looming over the outside wizarding society.

Despite the multiple personalities in his head, everything that they spoke in his ears so diligently, he already knew. Every warning, plead, and recount of horror he could recall in his memory as being a real conversation at some point or another.

They weren't external voices, or someone using Legilimins on him, they were in his head, and they were getting worse.

And that's what was driving him crazy. The screaming whispers that plagued his nights and haunted his daydreams were not real, they were figments in his head that drove him crazy.

It made him retreat into his room early most nights. Time in class when he was concentrating seemed to only make it worse the times he dozed off, and he hadn't even found the time away from his thoughts to go to the library like Hermione had insisted he do.

"I've just been busy mate, get off my arse. I'll come by this weekend to the Slytherin Dorms this weekend if you're really that desperate to see me" Draco teased.

"We'd love to see you" Blaise interjected before Theo could retort any more jokes and dig in Draco's direction.

"Unless Granger already had dibbs"

As the words left Theo's mouth, Pansy shot him a death glare.

"Chill Pans, it was a joke. And it's not like he's particularly interested in you"

Theo kept going, only making Pansy's glare worse.

"Okay time to go Nott" Blaise grabbed him by the back of his robes, hauling him to his feet.

Draco heard Theo's protests as Blaise physically dragged him out of the Great Hall, leaving him with Pansy. He would have rather they stay and Theo continue to pestr him about his life with Granger, at least then he could think about turning down their accusations instead of trying to avoid both Pansy and the whispers he feared would creep up if he lacked any distractions.

Pansy now looked up at him with sweet eyes, and he knew she was trying to get something.

"Will you come this weekend Draco, to the Slytherin Dorms?" she asked, all bright eyed, and pleading. She placed her hand on his shoulder and leaned into his side, trying to illicit a reaction from his body that he wouldn't agree with.

It didn't work.

"Yes, I'll come to the dorms and hang out in the common room with you and Nott and Blaise" he knew he couldn't get out of it, and he tried we would be bound by her in second with her hands. Trying to seduce him into coming.

It had worked before. He gave her what she wanted, one time, and now she felt entitled to him.

"Will you come now" she started, narrowing her eyes seductively, and shifting closer to him on the beach. She slung one of her legs over his lap, shifting around to feel anything. "Just with me".

"No Pans, I have to go to the Library" It was the only excuse he could think of. Really, he did have to go, for the books Hermione had requested.

"Oooh, I like the Library" she shifted closer, half on his lap now. Draco felt, rather than saw, her lean up to whisper in his ear "I can be quiet".

That was it. He stood abruptly, knocking pansy into the bend hershey. She hissed from the pain, and glared up at him.

"What's your problem Draco?" she screamed. He noticed a few Slytherins at the table look in their general direction after hearing Pansy's scream.

"I'm not doing that Pansy!" he sneered back, turning away from her.

"Oh but you will. You liked it last time. You'll come crawling back once you get bored of your own hand" she was standing behind him now, whispering.

He knew part of what she said was right. But he had been drunk, and over eager to get his first time over with. She was an over willing participant, and she wanted more ever since.

"Enough Pansy" he said, pushed her back slightly with his shoulder, so that there was enough room for him to turn around with brushing against her chest.

She was still staring at him, Eyes wide with lust, and he noticed she had undone her top two buttons to try and persuade him further. He snapped his eyes back to her, trying not to give her an invitation to pounce.

"I'll see you in the common room on Saturday in the Slytherin Common room with Theo and Blaise. You can come to be with us as a group".

She signed angrily at him, but resigned herself back to her seat .

Draco made his way up to the library, the little ripped piece of parchment that Hermione had given him, firmly in his palm. He had kept it in his pocket since Monday night, hoping to go to the Library at some point, but every time he ended up back in the common room trying to get the whispers in his head to stop.

He knew Hermione would be in the library on Thursday nights. She had told him before she left for dinner. It was a habit she had gotten herself into. Everytime she left she would yell a place, he figured out rather quickly it was where she was going. He never responded, or returned the action when he left.

Draco had tried to understand why she was doing it. He started off thinking it was a part of her "high street" approach, but then he thought it might be a subtle way for her to tease him about needing her to get someone if he suddenly fell frozen again.

Either way Draco had to admit to himself by Tuesday that it was nice to not have to watch his steps in the form now that she would willingly be in his precise and speak to him on occasion. He was never concerned for his sanity, but having Hermione not avidly ignoring him at least took some of the pressure away from his mind, and let him concentrate on not listening to the whispers, instead of whether or not he could make a cup of tea without fri gher into her own room with his mere existence.

He knew he was calmer around her too. He didn't start an argument everytime she made a joke about him looking dreary, or making fun of him for letting Pansy do the potions work and taking a failing grade after she created a Seamus-level explosion in the cauldron.

If she had noticed any change in how he acted, she hadn't said anything.

When he made it to the Library he walked straight to Madam Pince. The list she had given him was all books he had never heard of before, and on topics in the restricted section. He hadn't been able to convince a seventh year to collect them for him, so he was going to try his luck with it himself.

"Madam Pince, I have a few books I'm looking for."

The tall, aging witch turned to face him behind her desk, and smiled briefly at him. She had rapidly aged since his first year, he noted. When he was eleven he could recall her roaming the shelves on her own time, and arranging the books on the shelves. Now she enlisted students for the work, in exchange for specialized extra Library hours, and spent most of her time behind the desk directing students to the correct units for their studies.

He unfolded the parchment and handed it to her awaiting hands.

Her eyes scanned it over. The list was unimpressive, the only thing to bat an eye at was that it was Draco Malfoy requesting books on blood purity and family archives when he had boasted about knowing such things for years.

She flattened the parchment out on the paper and turned to Draco, pointing at the book titles as she spoke.

"You'll need this" she handed him a small silver key that he recognized as the key to the Restricted Centre's doors.

Confusion flooded him. He knew that most of them were guaranteed in the section, but he was 16, too young to have access to the locked units. She noticed his confusion and spoke again before continuing.

"You are a Senior Prefect, correct?" she asked.

He nodded in return, the confusion slightly slipping.

"You have access to the Restricted Section. Headmaster's request" she barely gave him time to evaluate her words before continuing with directing him on the book's exact locations.

-Magical Families and Genetic Maladies - "This one is in unit 10 in the Restricted Section"

-Blood Status and Celtic Rituals- "This one is in unit 6 if the Restricted Section"

She looked at the last book and sighed, and an apologetic look flashed at Draco.

\- The Sacred 28, Dated 1930 - "I haven't seen this book in ages. We had it during the 1980's but no one has asked for it since, I think it was removed from the archive section in unit 4, but you could check" .

"Thank you" Draco nodded.

He nodded and collected the parchment from the desk, slipping into the first unit of books to the corridor in the middle Library. He made his way to the back of the grand room.

The restricted section was scored by big steel gates. It always sparked rumours and anticipation amongst the younger students who wanted so badly to slip between the bars and scurry through the books. Even he had looked with wide eyes though the big gates and at the old, leather bound books in awe.

Plucking the silver key from his palm, Draco inserted it in the brass pad-lock at the parting of the gates. It took a few tries to swirl the old key into the rusting iron of the lock, but the gates parted with a creak that made some of the third years nearby look on in anticipation.

Draco recalled thinking there were magical protections in the restricted section. Knowing that it was a simple lock and key guarded by the Librarian made his trip to the Restricted Section less fantasizing than before.

"Draco?" her voice cut of his fantasy of his younger years.

"I see you fancied not telling me we were permitted to the Restricted Section?" he joked, turning himself to see her.

She had let her hair down since he had last seen her, and her curls fell down her face and brushed the sides of her face. He knew strand would be littered all over the books she held firmly in her hands. The whole stack of them was likely infested with her curls, bookmarking the pages she spent the most time on.

She was smiling shyly up at him, like she had purposely withheld the information from him.

"I found out today too" she sat down at the big round table in the centre of the section, and propped open the book.

He read the cover - Blood Status and Celtic Rituals - one of the ones she had sent him for. He supposed he couldn't be that upset that she had come for them herself, especially since books couldn't be checked out of the Restricted Section, they would have to view them inside.

"Don't lie to me!" he recognized the tone in his voice dip angrier, and he noticed her body shift to shrink in size in her chair. Anticipating his outburst. "You're reading one of the books you told me to get, and judging by how far you are into it, you came here the second you could. My guess is that as soon as McGonagell had told you, you could come here you did?"

"What makes you say that?" she joked, writing something down on her parchment, not even looking at him. He stepped closer and pulled the chair across from her out to sit.

"Please Granger, you couldn't stay out of the Library even if your life depended on it. You've helped Pince since third year, and Potter and Weasley complain very loudly might I add" Draco said as he sat down and pulled the parchment from beside her.

"I suppose you are right then. I thought you wouldn't exactly enjoy me reveling in the perks the position gave us" She responded but he was barely paying attention.

Draco looked down at the parchment he took from beside her. She had already gone through the entirety for the first book on her list, and made detailed notes.

-

Black Family-

-family motto translate to 'always pure'-

-a few squibs-

\- several family members removed from the archives or removed from the family trees-

\- no known blood curses (if they exist they have been dormant for years with not foreseeable pattern)-

\- Pureblood families are known to interbreed, there are potential issues known in muggle medicine that can be caused by interbreeding, The issue may be muggle related and the magic rejected the muggle condition -

\- Draco's mother is his link to the Black Family, she carried no known abnormalities according to up to date records-

\- Draco is unaware of any magical malady in the Black family line, suggests dormant condition, or spur cognition with no known origin-

\- the Black family magical signature is not anywhere in the archives-

Draco moved through her notes. He could recognise that Hermione was speaking to him, but the words flowed through his head so swingingly that he didn't register a single thing. Instead he kept reading.

\- Magical Ailments-

\- the magical medicine practice acknowledges some risk of interbreeding: including the increased chance of squibb children, increased infant death risk, children with physical deformities, risk of developing quote 'insanity', and the chance of an obscurus to form if a child presents with differences and is neglected-

\- magical signatures are not recognized in the field of medicine-

\- the Black family tree has some known squibbs, device to prove there is interrelations that could be the source of problems with a magical signature -

\- Bellatrix Lestrange (Draco's Aunt) has been rumoured to be insane. Terminology changes in the muggle world, but her mental state may suggest a mental illness from years of inbreeding. Perphaos genetic in nature. -

"Draco" Hermione whisper-yelled at him this time, as to no invoke the wrath of Pince for library misconduct, "Are you present?" she joked.

"You didn't tell me you were going to study my family Granger" he was almost snarling at her, his voice was low and casually angry.

She stiffened, and straignedher posture to look more daring. "I thought it rather obvious. Your family line is in question not just you. I mean yes, you, had a reaction to the spell, but it stems from the whole line" she was looking at him questiongly, and he spotted the concern in her eyes that was present when he was frozen against the armchair.

"It feels weird to have someone like y..." he stopped himself.

Draco had reminded himself of her rules. She hadn't broken them, and if he wanted to sue her brain to get the information he needed, he needed to follow them too. Rule number one was: 'don't call her mudblood'. While mentioning her status wasn't technically breaking it, she had made it clear she didn't want to be reminded that he saw her as unequal.

It was too late though, she knew what he intended and finished the sentence for him using crude language that he himself would use were he not trying to be civil with her.

"Because I'm a Mudblood?" Her tone was cleraling testing him, willing him to confirm that's why he stopped himself.

"I didn't break the rule, and I wasn't going to use that kind of language" he started, she looked at him, dare still in her yes, "but yes. You've been writing about muggle conditions when the spell was to show my magical being. I hardly see how the two are related?"

She moved over to him softly, her robes trailing behind her as if a breeze was present inside the castle. She put one hand on the parchment, right next to the line which read : -magical signatures are not recognized in the field of medicine - and looked down at him.

"Magical signatures are not recognized in medicine, they recognize magical output on the sonogram" Draco felt rather than instruct his nose to crinkle in confusion, she clarified " those muggle machines they use at St Mungoes to check on baby in utero, they recognise magical output not signatures"

"What does this have to do with muggle medicine, besides the invasive look in women's bodies?" he looked up at her, and he noticed they were less than a foot apart.

"Magical signatures aren't studied, all the information we have of them is from the Celtic books. In that time magical blood genetics weren't advanced enough to show maladies, even the magical community doesn't recognize a lot of genetic components in breeding, and abnormalities in family lines. It's possible that a genetic abnormality could interfere with a magical signature and it's just not known to the Healers" she finished speaking but didn't move.

"So you think there is some genetic problem with me that made my magic go haywire when they checked it?" Draco clarified her long winded story into one short and crude message.

She scrunched her face in annoyance, and moved all of her to the side so that it draped over her shoulder, and tickled the side of his shoulder.

"That's not what I said..." she began talking, but Draco cut her off this time.

"But it's what you meant," he finished.

"Well, yes, technically. But I don't think there is something wrong with you per say... I think just something different" she was treading carefully, choosing her words slowly and particularly to not seem rude, but he saw right through it.

He chuckled low in his chest. "You sound like a mother who has to talk nice about her kid Granger. You think something is up with my bloodline and it is presented in me. It makes sense, I'm only upset because you figured it out before me" .

It was her turn to laugh.

Draco watched it ripple through her, and he felt her chest brush his shoulder as her breath left her in gasps between her giggles. Her curls were moving wildly as she bent down further over his shoulder to point to something else on the page.

He caught a whiff of her hair she one curl brushed his nose.

It wasn't strong, otherwise he was certain he would have smelt it before with all the hair she shed in the common room. There was partially a collection of it on the armchair she had claimed.

She felt faintly like tea, warm and soft in his nose. It was sweet, but had the familiar scent of a cleaning product, so it was certainly a muggle type of hair shampoo. He couldn't put his finger on the scent right away. It was tea but without the leafy concentrate, and it wasn't just a plain soap scent. He liked it, but couldn't figure out why.

"Draco"... Draco... are you listening?" Hermione's voice slowly came back into focus.

She had swiveled herself around to face him, now standing beside his chair, rather than behind it and peering over his shoulder.

"You're stupid hair products are messing up my nose, it's wafting from you" he retored, sitting back on the chair to get away from the scent.

"Sorry" she mumbled. Hermione pulled her hair behind her and quickly put it up, a few curls fell into her face as she did, framing her face as she resigned to leave them there. The scent still surrounded him.

"I can change it, so you don't get annoyed by it. I liked the scent of it" she looked away from him, almost ashamed.

He didn't know why she had offered to change it. She hadn't actually done anything but to annoy him, but the scent of her hair was still tingling in his nose even after she backed up, and it was annoying him greatly, even if he did think it was sweet like tea.

"What is it? It's muggle and foreign, that's why it's annoying my senses." Liar: he told himself. It wasn't annoying, he liked it, but he didnt know why and that's why he was annoyed and dazed.

"Oh. Honey" her voice shook him.

He went still and visibly paled, not daring to answer her about her changing the scent. He hadn't initially thought about considering asking her to change her freaking shampoo simply because it bothered him. But now he was desperate for her to change it in any capacity, and he didn't ever want to make tea again.

Honey-Soap.

He had smelt it in the Amortentia, and it was HER shampoo.

'This isn't happening': he thought to himself. 'There's no way that is what I spent in there': he thought again. 

His head was consumed by the whispers again.

The whispers screamed but didn't speak as he stiffened trying to process the revelation. It was like the waiting game from them, always waiting for something to distract him before they punched. And this time it was her that distracted him from his mind, and sent the whispers in a frenzy.

The hiss grew louder in his ears, leaving a lingering ringing behind. A shriek from his Mother was clear in the back of his head, and it made him wince and it seemed to bounce around his skull causing a searing pain in multiple places at it ricocheted.

He knew he must look crazy to her right now. A simple conversation baut hair products led to him spiraling and stuff in the Restricted Section of the Library.

He faintly registers her hand coming to reach for his shoulder.

"I have to go" he whispered, almost inaudibly because he said it so rushed.

As he stood he caught another whiff of her as she stepped closer to him worried at his sudden change in dmener.

Honey Soap.

Draco left her standing alone at the big roundtable confused. He had let her in a frenzy and she was alone and worried for him for the second time this week.

***

6th Year, October 5th

"Pansy did you throw him in a broom closet and strip bare?' Theo hollered from across the Slytherin common room upon Draco's arrival with Blaise.

His face had been pale for the past thirty-six hours. He hadn't brought himself to go to classes on Friday, and just braley made his meeting with Snape that Friday's evening where he repeated his and Hermione's research, and his plan to use her cleverness to his advantage.

He could barely be in his own common room now. His plan to act civil with her, and use her brain and her position of the 'high road' wouldn't work if he coulndt be in her presence.

But everywhere he went that she had, he now recognized the scent of her shampoo in the air in his nose. It was suffocating. He could have sworn that all the little shreds of hair she left places also had a tange of her scent on them now.

The entire common room felt suffocating with the scent of her shampoo. And Draco was certain he would have never even noticed it if it wasn't for the first day of potions class.

Honey Soap.

Now that is all he could smell whenever he so much as glanced at her, or stepped foot in the room.

He tried to ignore it the first night. But it overwhelmed his sense. The mixture of his thoughts about her scent and the whispers that night drove him mad and he was wracked with nightmares. The wards on his door kept his screams silent to the outside, and he was thankful that she wasn't at his door asking if he wanted tea that morning. He was if she knew about the night terror she would be prodding him with tea and asking him if he wanted to talk about it.

The dampness of the dungeons cleansed his mind slightly, the mention of her name from Blasie's mouth made him remember it and he paled in horror at the thought.

"Did not!" Pansy laughed at Theo's comment and stalked over to Blaise and Draco. "But I could?" she whispered in Draco's ear, making him shudder at the thought of seeing Pansy bare again.

"Well than what's got him looking sicker than Weasley in second year when he made him puke slugs?" Theo continued, looking to Blaise for an answer.

Draco knew that Blaise could evenly put together what had made him pale. He was fine, more than fine compared to yesterday's game of hide and seek with Hermione, who was dissent about him going to classes. 

But the minute he asked: 'How's living with Granger? She still scared of you?", Draco froze up and he was reminded of her smell and the Amortentia.

Blaise looked over to Draco, who had pink returning to his cheeks as he took a seat on the couch beside Pansy. Draco knew he still looked visibly uncomfortable, even more so now that he was waiting for Blaise to respond.

Blasie shot him a 'we are talking about this later' look before responding to Theo.

"I mentioned Seamus blew up something in Transfiguration and made McGonagell turn into a cat. Then I asked where her clothes went when she would inevitably return back because she shooed us out of the room" Blaise laughed back, believably.

He was the only one taking Transfiguration this term, so no one was the wiser to his lie, expect Draco. Theo's face took a similar colour to Draco's and his nose twisted in disgust.

"See, you had the same reaction. It's justified" Blaise contonuned, sitting down on the armchair across the table, beside Theo.

"So what are we doing tonight?" Draco mustered up the words to ask.

"Just chess, not much else with this curfew" Blaise reminded him, "Not everyone has Senior Prefect immunity to the rules".

Draco had forgotten his restrictions were different from his friends. He had taken a night walk almost every night the past week, and an especially long one last night to free his nose.

"Right" he mumbled, just enough so they could hear him.

"Okay, Round Robin style!" Theo jumped up excitedly to pull the chess game onto the table. "Blaise and me first, then loser plays Pans and winner plays Draco- no offence Pans but you suck arse at chess" .

Draco smiled softly. Despide Theo Nott's aggressive upbringing and lack of knowledge for social ques and light touches, he was overexcited most of the time. He found joy in the simplest of things, and always made his friends laugh when they needed it.

And boy did Draco need it tonight.

On top of Hermione's hair being a new issue, Snape had requested he start to formulate a plan to off Dumbldore by the end of November. Snape had demanded a rough outline of how to do it next friday, and Draco had no idea where to start.

He hadn't gotten further than - use Hermione's brain- and - somehow get closer to his Headmaster-.

Both were failing at the moments seeing as how Dumbledore had all but disappeared from students and school events and dinners. Being in Hermione's presence confused him and sent his brain into a frenzy mixed with screaming whispers and the overmelingness of her scent and the hair he continued to find everywhere even when actively ignoring her.

Theo won the first game against Blaise. Then Theo played Pansy and won. Draco played Blaise and lost, leaving it back to Blaise and Theo again to 'go for gold' in Theo's words. Technically that translated to 'who's buying butterbeer next' but Theo insisted there be a losing penalty, and it usually included sparing a few galleons.

Draco had laid back to the large leather couch to watch Theo and Blaise's last game. Theo was intensely looking over his marble chess pieces, trying to decide which to move to avoid getting obliterated by Blaise incoming Queen piece.

Pansy scored over to him, and slung her leg over his lap. Shifting around to sit up against him, and whisper up in his ear.

"Want to go somewhere?" she giggled.

He felt her hands come up to trace along his arms slowly. For once he was thankful that she was trying to distract him, and he willed himself to try and lose himself in it to forget about everything else that was going on.

Despite her presence being unwelcomed, he was going to welcome the distraction tonight: he told himself. 

Noticing that he wasn't stopping her this time, Pansy flashed him a wicked grin and took the same hand that was caressing him and started to play with his hair slightly. Draco closed his eyes, desperately trying to let go of his thoughts and let Pansy do whatever to get his mind off things.

To his dismay, despite not really wanting her touch, it was at least successful in distracting him.

With his eyes still closed he felt her shift again so that she was kneeling on the couch beside him, her hand still tangled in his hair, but now at a better angle to whisper in his ear. He recalled she liked that, talking, while trying to seduce her men. It was like she was preying on them. Draco had seen boy after boy fall to it.

"Well look like you finally gave into your thoughts, eh?" she whispered, her breath going down his collar, and flaring onto his chest.

Eyes still closed, she took her hand and undid the top button of his shirt, and Draco gasped as the cold air sharply hit his collarbones. Pansy' seemed to enjoy the reaction she had illited and undid the next button. She frowned when it didn't produce the same reaction.

Instead she made her way back up to his ear to whisper to him again. "We can still go somewhere else if you want?" she hummed, taking his ear between her teeth and bing down slightly trying to force him to produce another ounce of sound.

Draco let her attack her lips to his neck as he lay stoich on the couch with his eyes still shut trying to lose his thoughts.

It wasn't working.

It wasn't working when he had played chess earlier. It wasn't working when Theo had made numerous jokes about how bad the Hufflepuff quidditch team was. Now it wasn't working with Pansy attached to his neck and moving avidly trying to sit in his lap.

He didn't move his hands to touch her. He just let her have her way until he would be repulsed and leave. He was guessing that would come if she tried to undo anymore of his buttons. But until then he would take any chance of distraction he would get.

Pansy successfully shifted to place herself in his lap after she pried her lips away from his neck. Her back was pressed against his chest, and she took one his hand that was at his side in hers.

She scooted back so that her head was pressed firmly under his chin.

It still wasn't working.

In fact he was fairly certain the Pansy's presence in his lap had just made it incredibly worse as he caught the scent of her shampoo.

Lavender and Pine. he noted. There was no changes since 5th year.

He knew he visibly frowned when he smelt it and he knew why too. Which was what made him both unformbale and angry.

It wasn't her scent.

Lavender and Pine was distinctly not Honey Soap. And as much as he loathed the idea of her scent being sweet and soft in his nose, it certainly was compared to Pansy.

Pansy didn't smell like Honey Soap, and it made him want to go back to his own common room.

And he didn't like that feeling one bit.


	9. Chapter 9: Amortentia

6th Year, October 7th

Draco couldn't avoid her, not at all.

She was literally everywhere. The common room, the Great Hall, his classes. She was everywhere and it drove him crazy. Even where she wasn't, she still fixed in his head.

By Monday he had resigned himself to thinking that wherever he went, inevitably followed. Either by physical being or internal placement in his consciousness.

He had sequestered himself in his room all of Sunday, even managing to avoid her in the common room. But she had badgered n his door, not drawing to try and come in knowing he had put up wards, but she banged on it asking if he wanted tea because he wasn't being himself. 

Draco smirked at that comment if he recalled correctly. Things had become so 'normal' living and co-existing with her that she now defined his normal as laying in a puddle of books with her in the common room, and being able to be in her presence without insulting her.

If anything, him locking himself in his room and ignoring her was the most normal thing he had done since she had decided she was going to take the 'high road' and Draco had gone along with it. Even if his thoughts didn't stop pushing his brain to the brink of madness, at least he had his pride: he thought to himself.

But now come Monday and he was starting to lose it. Sunday was controllable since he didn't have to leave his room, but on Monday he had to go to class where Slughorn was having them brew Amortentia.

The Potions room in the dungeons at least gave him some comfort in the air. The smell of damp stone cast over the smell of her shampoo well enough for him to contenctret. Until Slughorn pulled out the vial of Amortentia, and opened it.

"Of all the fucking things..." he mumbled to himself as he held his forehead in his jands, rubbing his temples.

Slughorn continued talking. No one had heard Draco's slip.

"Now class, I know you can all smell different things. Because of Amortentia's unique scents, everyone will have to write their own report on the potions properties, history, dangers, and their interpretations of it; even though this potion will be done in groups" .

Pansy skipped away from him. She'd been on a high all morning and he suspected he knew the reason why. She had successfully undone most of his shirt buttons on Saturday evening. Even though she didn't get very far onto him, at least not as far as she had implied when she whispered to him, she was riding her wave of success with an gloating demeanor.

"Oh one last thing" Slughorn's voice snapped at a few of the girls who were subcutaneously walking towards the open vial of Amortentia. One of them being Hermione.

"I almost forgot to group you. This potion Isn't difficult to brew, but it is time sensitive. You'll find much more success in larger groups. Now you can stay with your partners but I will pair up the partners." she was swingingly happy, too happy for Monday morning, and far too happy for Draco's head right now.

There was a collective grunt from the class as he started pairing off.

"Alright. Mr Zabini, Mr Nott, you two go with Mr Potter and Mr Weasley. Mr Finnigen and Mr Longbottom you two can pair with Ms Patil and Ms Vane. and that leaves..." he trailed looking around the room.

Only Draco and Pansy, and Aurie and Hermione were left, and Draco was internally pleading with Slughorn to change the arrangement. If he had to smell her hair and be in close proximity to her he might actually lose his marbles and doze completely off and fall into the potion itself.

"Ah... yes. Ms Granger and Ms Francis, and Ms Parkinson and Mr Malfoy. Alright off everyone goes you should be able to complete this by tea time" Slughorn whisked himself away to the front of the classroom, awaiting the inevitable questions that would flurry his direction when brewing such a complex potion in such a short time.

Aurie was smiling as she walked over and set her textbook down beside Pansy at the table. Hermione was less eager to walk over to the table, unsure of how Draco would respond after his weekend alone.

"Hey Granger, let's get the ingredients. I don't know if I can tell hastings-flies from horn -lies, and I'd rather not mess that one up" Pansy had a genuine smile on her face as she walked over toHermione, grabbed her by the writs and partially pulled her away from the table, leaving just him and Aurie.

"I don't know what you did, but she's not scared of you anymore. Good Job" Aurie sat next to him, smiling as she usually was.

Damn hufflepuff, always too eager to see a bright side: he thought. He shrugged her off in favour of looking over the protons book on how to actually set his flame to brew the love potion.

"So? How'd you do it?" she linked him in the arm, like they were going to skip as children, he shrugged her off.

"Bugg off Aurie" he said in a rather monotone voice. He didn't meet her eyes, he decided that the matches were far more interesting than trying to look at her and imagine what theories she was trying to come up with.

"Come on, she'll be back soon, and seeing as how Pansy isn't ripping her head off right now, you'd better tell me quick or you'll be saying it in front of them" she nagged at him, elbowing him in the ribs, a gesture he was all too familiar with from Blaise or Theo.

"There's nothing to say. She made rules, and I abided by them. She decided to take the 'high road' and I did too, albeit begrudgingly. Audie I would like to keep my sanity in check" he responded, still not looking at her.

He was now fumbling with the vial of unicorn blood, the crucial ingredient to the Amortentia that he had taken from the shelf early into the class.

"Then why are you still not sane Draco?" That was the last thing Aurie could say before Pansy and Hermione returned with their arms full of potions ingredients and equipment.

Draco stalled, He knew he wasn't convincing Blaise. However everyone else had fallen for his fake stoicness and calmed attitude. Somehow Aurie was seeing right through him, even knowing that he was quensting his ability to stay sane, something he had never done.

He looked over to her for the first time since the conversation started and saw her grey eyes, a slight cockiness was hidden beneath them, but he caught it. She flashed him a coy smile right as Pasny spoke.

"Okay time to go" Pansy stated while taking a vial from Hermione's fumbling grip, "Draco, get the knives from Granger before she drops them and loses a toe" Pansy hollered as she stepped past him to her seat with the vial she had just taken from Hermione.

He stalled a moment, preparing himself to try and not breathe through his nose as he stepped closer to her.

It didn't work.

As soon as he was within two feet of her he could smell the sweet and tangy scent of her shampoo that she hadn't changed out.

Honey Soap.

He tried to stop his breathing momentarily to get out of her vicinity but as he reached out his hand to take the set of cloth wrapped knives from under her arm, and felt the tips of his finger brush against her robes, and she flinched back at his contact. He had to catch the knives just at her waist before they would drop to the ground, and his finger brushed her robes there too as he did. She didn't flinch that time.

"Sorry" she mumbled so that only he could hear. He grabbed the knives and stepped back enough so that her scent wasn't overpowering in the dungeon.

"You didn't do anything" he mumbled back, turning to the table and unwrapping the knives carefully against the thick wood.

"I did something to make you ignore me all weekend. You haven't talked to me since the library on Thursday" she mumbled back, still quiet enough so no one else could eavesdrop on their conversation.

"I've been busy" he said plainly and cooly now that he was away from the vacuum of her scent.

"You didn't eat on Sunday. Unless you figured out how to use the stove--" she giggled quietly at her last part and it made him smile slightly. He hid it quickly, and did not respond, instead he started adding a few herbs to the already boiling cauldron.

"Look, if something happened again, like a few weeks ago. Just tell me, I can take it, and I can help" she was closer again, and the scent filled his head.It was overriding his senses and causing brain fog that let the whispers back.

"Granger, just don't. It's bigger than that" he hid under his breath, stepping away again. If he had to move back one more time someone would likely notice.

"Then you definitely should tell me".

Draco signed in relief when she walked back to Aurie and Pansy who were smashing the rose quartz crystals into a powdery substance. Hermione whispered something in Aurie's ear before lighting another fire to burn the wheat.

Amortentia was complex to brew. Not because it required rare ingredients, beside the unicorn blood, but because it had to be brewed quickly and at a boiling point. If the boiling point was lost it would fail, and if it was brewed too slowly it wouldn't be potent enough to last more than a few seconds.

Draco had let the girls take over, they seemed all too eager to smell the potion once it was complete, and Draco would rather they be the ones to hover over the cauldron the scents slowly increased, than him. He simply chopped the things he needed to, and watched the three of them hover over the smoking cauldron.

Once his chopping was done, and all that was left was to wait, stirr and observe, he picked up the textbook to read the warnings on Amortentia.

Surly such a powerful potion has warnings: he thought, especially in a school textbook.

\- Amortentia -

-scents reveal desires, open vials and brew at own risk -

\- taken orally, the potion lasts up to a week, depending on dose, and multiple doses are not recommended-

\- scents can change with time, sniffers do not be alarmed-

\- prolonged exposure to scents directly produced from the potion (not the actual source) can be an aphrodisiac, and cause sniffers to act on impulse and without control towards their desires -

The last one stuck out to Draco. Prolonged exposure to the scent was something he had never considered the effects of just the potions scents as dangerous, only ingestion ever seemed to follow through. The scents only acted dangerously when exposed to by the potion directly, on the original sources, meaning that exposure to her hair wouldn't drive him mad... well at least based on this: he thought to himself.

He understood why the girls who hovered over the potion all seemed rather flushed and eager to smell it again. Some part of them was being overtaken by the potions scents, and they were in a low-level Amortentia trance that made them crave more of the potion, and likely whatever it reminded them of. Since the potion hadn't had a spell castor to charm an injestory, they wouldn't be drawn to a particular individual, instead they would be drawn to their own desires.

Draco thought that might be more dangerous than regular Amortentia. In the regular version it was easy to claim the effects of the potion were doing unnatural things to the body and causing unwilling actions. That only held up with the charm has been cast. If it hadn't, then the in-taker was asking on their own impulse and desires, meaning their intentions were no longer concealable by a potion, they were their own.

"Done" Hermione yelped as she cast a simple spell over the cauldron to check that the temperature and simmer time had reached the accurate readings. It had, and she was beaming as Slughorn came over to check the potion.

"Now girls tell me what you smell?" Slughorn asked .

The girls inched closer to the cauldron in unison, eager to have the scents of their deepest desires fill them

Hermione was the first to speak.

""Freshly mowed grass, parchment paper, pine wood, and.. Spearmint..." She stopped on the last one, pausing to consider something. Draco watched her nose scratch up slightly as she smelled again, and her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Something changed, Miss Granger?" Slughon prodded, noticing her change in posture and her facial expression.

"Not particularly, Sir." she hesitated, looking over her shoulder to Potter and Weasley before speaking. He suspected something had changed that had to do with one of them, Weasley most likely. She kept going though, "... I always smelled spearmint, but before it was clearly toothpaste, now it's more faint, like the leaf itself".

"Hmmm interesting. Looks like you have a mission of self discovery to get yourself on Miss Granger" he turned to Aurie and Pansy: "Miss Francis, what about you?"

Aurie went to hover over the steaming cauldron, a bright family was produced when the steam hit her face. It was a stark contrast to the confusion that Hermione's face was continuing to hold. 

"Vanilla perfume, burning cedar, and fresh french pastries...Same as last time" she giggles happily and stepped back allowing Pansy to come forward for her turn.

"Excellent---Miss Parkinson '' he gestured to Pansy, who very, very willing stepped forwards.

She was maintaining eye contact with Draco. As is to say ' listen, it's gonna be you' with her eyes. 

"Ginger Snaps ... Lavender... and... I think it's Pumpkin Juice" she took her gaze off Draco when it was clear that she did not smell him, or any distinct person but herself.

Draco scoffed. Lavender was her shampoo, was she that absorbed that what she loved and desired most was herself?

She was smiling shyly at the ground, and he suspected she knew exactly what she smelt, and wanted to ignore that she had just admitted she was so enthralled in herself, that her pursuit of him was entirely self- created from wanting to claim him, not from desire for him.

Draco was scoffing smugly in her direction, knowing full well that she would scold him later and try and convince him that the potion was wrong. But the potion was never wrong.

The potion was never wrong, and that was exactly his problem.

He could smell the scent from here, and had no intention of getting any closer, but it seems Slughhorn had the other idea firmly placed.

"Mr Malfoy, I think it's your turn. Tell what you can smell from where you are?"

Draco looked up. He could only smell her Honey Soap from where he was. It was so strong he wasn't sure he wouldn't even be able to smell the other scents until his head was hovering directly covering the simmering cauldron.

Draco decided lying was his only way out of it.

"Not much from here Sir, only the faint smell of the dungeons" he laughed, sauntering over to the cauldron.

He knew Slughorn wouldn't accept his answer, so moving over to the cauldron would at least allow him to identify the other scents and say those instead of admitting that all he could smell was Hermione Granger's hair.

"And now?" Slughnorn asked as soon as draco was hovering over the cauldron.

The steam hit his face, it was like a warm breath was overtaking him. He instantly could identify the other scents in the air around him, like being engulfed in a hug: was warm and soft.

He could feel Pansy watching him. The three girls. Aurie, Pansy and Hermione, were standing across the table, looking interestedly over to Draco and Slughorn as he took him the scents and tried to put a blank face on, to relay them to his professor.

"Burning Wood... Butterbeer ... " he stalled. He peered over the cauldron and pretended to think. The smell was suffocating, strong enough to make his brain fuzzy. The burning woods and butterbeer were merely faint scents in the distance compared to the intensity of Hermione.

"Tea" he settled on his lie evenly, and spoke in a crisp and neutral as possible.

Tea wasn't wholly a lie: he told himself. He usually took his tea with three spoonfuls of honey, so naturally his tea usually smelled strongly of honey.

"Interesting, any changes?" Slughorn asked, placing a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back from the cauldron slightly forcefully.

Draco hadn't even realised he was being sucked into the potions scent vacuum like the girls had until Slughorn was pulling him back and away from it.

"No Sir, same as last time" he retorted, settling back into his chair, now fully away from the potion's scent.

Slughorn walked away, leaving him and the girls at the table with the simmering potions. The girls were entranced in an avid conversation about what they smelt in the potion and what it meant. Draco was supremely shocked that Pansy was in the same airspace as Hermione and not insulting her to the brink of tears.

But the look she shot him answered why she was capable of being civil, almost friendly with her. She winked in his direction, and gave him a sultry gaze.

She was expecting more. She thought he was wrapped around her finger.

And oh how wrong she was.

***

By the time Potions class had ended Draco's head was swimming with whispers, and Blaise had noticed his inability to keep a straight face.

Blaise dragged him through the hallways, the voices still taking over his senses, despite the smell of honey sopa no longer infiltrating his nose.

-'Draco you don't need to do this' - the voice he recognized as his mother spoke to him as he was leaving the class. It was the only voice that didn't cause his head pain, it only made him dazed and confused.

He knew when she had said that. It was when he was leaving for Hogwarts, she had insisted that she walk him to the Train, even after Snape had insisted it wasn't safe for her to leave the manor after Voldemort's return and wizarding society knowing that Lucious was a conspirator with the Death Eaters.

But she persisted, saying she needed to see her son off to potentially his last year of school if Voldemort's plan succeeded.

She had held him tightly in an embrace, and he allowed himself to hug her back, even in the presence of other students. He didn't care what they thought. He knew his mother had risked so much just being there for him, and he wasn't going to be cruel against her, he knew she would face a locked door for weeks when Voldemort realised where she had gone.

She had pulled him down to her height to whisper softly in his ear as a few tears slipped down her cheeks.

-' Draco you don't need to do this' - the whisper only repeated the same words over and over again.

Her voice was dripped in fear for her Son. She was pleading with him to come home. She didn't need to say it for him to know. She wanted him to stay at the Manor, and ignore his mission, let someone else carry it out for him.

She didn't want him to take the Mark. He knew that, but she really was willing to risk his life over risking him taking it. She thought death was a better alternative.

-'Draco you don't need to do this'- she whispered again, willing his head with the sounds of her silent sobs and wails and she shook with fear in his arms.

She was so broken.

Blaise had pulled him into the Room of Requirement, and thrown him down on the nearest, not fully covered in books and trinkets, sofa.

"What is your problem mate?" He started, Draco put his head in his hands, rubbing his temples trying to get the sound of his Mother's sobbs out of his mind. The pain behind his eyes returned. 

"Dude, pull yourself together," Blaise said again, sitting beside him.

"Just what do you want to know?" Draco signed, head still in his hands, the whispers only subsisinding slightly when he rubbed his forehead. The pain was not wavering. 

He was trying to control his ragged breathing, and his ask of blaise came out more desperate than he had intended.

"Well first I want to know why I had to lie Saturday night when the mention of Granger turned you paler than the snow at Christmas? And then I want to know why the Hell you look like you are dying right now?" Draco signed again, annoyed and reigned to the fact that he was too mentality weak to fight him at the moment.

"What if I told you the two were related at some capacity? And I think I'm going mad?" he retorted trying to sound suave.

He ripped his hands away from his head, and leaded back on the couch, flinging his head back to rest against the back. His neck titled on the back of the old velvet cushions and he was staring right up at the marble ceiling in the hidden room. One hand gripped his knee tightly, trying to keep his leg from bouncing with nervousness.

"Related, okay so Granger is driving you mad? We all kinda saw that coming she's so uptight probably keeps the lights on all night so you get no sleep" he laughed , thinking he had figured it out.

Draco didn't move. He kept looking at the intricate marble details in stars on the cleaning.

"Not that?" he questioned. "Well that's what's related to Potions class, Hermione Granger, and you going mad....." He paused to think, and his eyes went wide.

"NO!" Blaise gasped.

"Unfortunately"

"You wanna elaborate because my brain is sending me places I never wished it could go... ever" he gasped.

"It's her bloody shampoo. It smells like honey and soap. I smelt it in the Amortentia on the first day of class, but on Thursday she got close enough to me without yelling and stomping off immediately, and the smell was in her hair" Draco exploded, the words vomiting out of him without his explicit permission. He was desperate to get some of his mental weight off of his chest.

"Now it's everywhere, I can't be anywhere without being reminded of it. She sheds her hair everywhere, and it's strong enough that just a few strands on the armchairs send my brain into a frenzy and I get a raging headache" he kept going.

Blase looked shocked, but was intently listening.

"She was being civil with me, still is actually, and she doesn't know that being in the same room as her is suffocating me and I think literally making me insane ....".Draco finished. Head was still in his hands, hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees. His knees were freely shaking and his feet tapped the floor repeatedly with anxiety.

"Well shit dude you're in love with Hermione Fucking Granger" Blaise laughed, slapping his shoulder.

"I am NOT in love with Hermione Freaking Granger" he screamed, standing up so fast it knocked Blaise to his side on the couch.

Draco now stood over him. Shaking with rage and his fists balled in his sides to fiery he would feel his nails pierce his skin and start drawing blood.

"Amortentia doesn't lie" Blaise states plainly.

"Amortentia also doesn't reveal who you are in bloody love with. It reveals your desire. So logically some twisted part of me wants forbidden fruit, or maybe just anywone who isn't Pansy" He was Screaming now.

Blaise rose to his feet so that he was level with Draco. Standing nose to nose, and he was stifling a laugh at Draco's abrupt reaction. 

"Well fair enough" he spoke calmly " But maybe try not to let her see how intoxicated you become by the smell of her freaking hair... she was looking at you funny, worried even"

"Believe me I have no intentions of this happening any longer. I just have to finish my mission so I can get out of here and away from her '' he sighed, losing some of his anger and replacing it with relief that at least someone knew what he was struggling with.

"Hmmm" he huffed, muffling a laugh.

"Shut up, this is not fun for me" Draco sighed, eyes scanning the room for anything to avoid looking at Blaise after his confession that the smell of Hermione's hair was driving him to insanity.

"Not but is really is for me... figures the girl you've rivalled and teased for years is now driving you insane and she doesn't even know it" Blaise let his laughter loose. 

Draco's eyes landed on a stack of books on a round wooden table. And he read the spines from top to bottom as a distraction from his voice.

"... just never thought, you of all people, would smell anything related to Hermione Granger in a love potion" he laughed.

"Fuck off, It's not like I'm indending to act on anything"

"Well not yet..." he laughed, brushing past him, Draco was still reading the spines of the books.

Blaise left the room without another word and Draco's eyes landed on the last bok spine and read it.

\- 'The Sacred 28: Dated 1930'-

He grabbed it, grunting in annoyance. He didn't care that he made the books fall to the ground around him as he yanked from the bottom of the stack. The sooner he could know why the hell the spell reacted the way it did, the sooner he could get closer to Dumbledore and away from the castle.

And away from her.


	10. Chapter 10:Dreams

6th Year, October 7th

When Draco got to the common room, book in hand, Hermione was sprawled again on the floor, surrounded by parchment and textbooks. He had managed to pull himself together and go to Charms, but he spent the rest of his evening in the astronomy tower reading the book he had found in the Room of Requirement.

It had a detailed family tree, even more details than any one he had seene before because it didn't have names blackened out. The dates of certain relatives were missing, mostly the ones who had been disowned a long time ago, but otherwise there was a complete family history of the Black line.

He noted the other Pureblood families had detailed family trees in the book, and saw considerable overlap amongst many of them. That was the 'interbreeding' concept that Hermione had warned about, that a muggle condition could interfere with his magical signature.

He knew Hermione would delve into the book the minute it reached her hands. She would pester him with questions about the disowned relatives, and the ones still living off the descendants mentioned in the tree.

He wanted to get it over with.

The second he was through the threshold her scent surrounded him, scratching at his nose with it's sweet posture. He took a deep breath, right through his chest to sedate him from any effects. It only worked slightly.

"Granger I found your book!" He hollered, tossing it on the empty armchair that she usually claimed.

He continued walking past her, eager to get away from the scent and delve into defining a plan for Snape for the upcoming Friday evening.

Snape was expecting a detailed plan for how to off Dumbledore. An Idea had sparked in Draco during charms class when Professor Flitwick was reviewing heirloom curses, and reversing charms on crystals.

As Flitwick put it - "some charms are indecetable, and can be hidden very well in intricate details of old silversmiths works. Oftentimes the cursed won't even know until they are gravely ill, or being possessed by the magic" - and Draco was convinced it would work.

A cursed object, arriving by mail would be unsuspecting. He assumed Dumbledore's recluse status meant there was a limited number of people checking his mail, if any, and he could easily slip it into the owlery unnoticed. In the possibile event that Dumbledore wasn't receiving any mail at the moment he supposed he could send it with another student to give to him.

His problem would be obtaining an old silversmith's work that could hold the charm, and wielding enough magic to indeed the old relic with a curse strong enough to kill Albus Dumbledore. He would need to pick something of a power level above his own, and he would have to create wards around to not alarm the messenger of his plan, and evade Dumbledore's suspicions.

Flitwick had named three charmed curses that were undetectable to a blind eye, and strong enough to cause immediate harm on first contact, and Draco had scribbled them down hastily on the corner of his parchment.

He was eager to escape Hermione's strange and metaphorical grasp on him and research the logistics of the spell in the privacy of his warded bedroom. The sooner he could finalize his plan, the sooner he could get away from her. His plan to exploit her brain now was only valuable to him by means of understanding why his family line was being questioned.

"Hey, wait!" she called out, he stopped but didn't turn to look at her "Why have you been acting so weird? You said stuff was going on, earlier in Potions, is there something you need to talk about?"

"Not to you Granger" he was crisp and rude in his tone. Very much telling her that he was not up for mind games of intense questioning for the evening.

"What's that supposed to mean? "He heard her stand up, and the book toppled from her lap as she did.

When he finally turned around to face her, she was fuming. Her hands were on her hips, which were more prominent now that she was wearing a pair of muggle jeans and a jumper instead of her uniform. Her head was tilted to the side, cascading her curls down and exposing the side of her collarbones.

He saw her chest rising and falling heavily, she was trying to contain her breathing, trying not to yell at him for ignoring her all weekend when she was trying to solve his problems.

"What? You gonna attack me for not speaking to you for a few days? You can try, you're not gonna get very and you know it" He taunted her and she did indeed move closer to him.

Crap: he thought. Every step she took closer to him, the smell of Honey Soap intensified.

"What happened?" she asked plain as day, when she was a few feet from her. Her feet planted ready to run if she needed, but her hand still rested on her hips confidently and assuredly that she was going to get her way.

"Nothing that concerns you" he had to look down to meet her eyes. He saw the fire in them that had been replaced with worry for the past weeks, she was angry.

"Then you should have no problem telling me then?" she sneered up, never breaking the eye contact as she took another step forward.

She was surrounding him with her scent now. There was no lingering odors of the wind in his clothes, and the candles that burned by the bookshelf were drowned out by the swinging scent of other shampoo.

Draco could only hope that he hadn't visibly paled. Internally he was screaming for him to move away from him. He couldn't take it, it was suffocating. Not just it;s scent but the implications that came with it.

He smelled her in Amortentia. Whether or not the potions relieved a deep seated love was redundant. It most definitely revealed deep seated desires.

And he smelt her.

Until the past month being the same room as her would cause him to nearly gag, and now some twisted part of him wanted her.

No. He didn't want her. The potion had to be wrong, and he would have to prove it.

She took another step closer when he didn't respond, just started down into her eyes, thinking. She smelled so sweet to him, and it made him feel warm inside whenever the scent was directly emanating from her, not just a memory in the common room of spilling out in the Potions room. 

When she was standing in front him it was a hundred times stronger, and it made him feel things he didn't agree with.

"Draco..." she started.

He watched her fire storm of anger change to worry and sympathy in an instance when he remained still and silent.

God she was so close: he thought.

"...I..." he stammered "... I ... I have to go".

He managed to get the words out before she could step any closer to him. Draco turned his back to her and felt the instinct cold as she stepped out of her breath spaces and into his own warded room where Hermione couldn't hear him sigh the second he closed his door to her puzzled and worried face.

Draco's hand was still firmly gripping the doorknob. His other hand was out steadying himself against the door, level with where his forehead rested against the wood door. His breaths were coming out ragged and low from his stomach as he tried to flush the warm scent of her out of his head and away from his body.

How the hell did her mere presence illicit this reaction? He thought to himself, he was fine earlier this week before she had gotten too close to him.

He knew she was right outside the door, either still frozen in her spot trying to comprehend what had just happened, or back with her books only a few metres away. She was right there, and he couldn't escape her.

He really was going insane. That "psychology' she talked about wasn't in him right, if that was even the correct way to use it. He felt stuck against the door. He wanted desperately to escape her, and lul himself away, but an equal part of him wanted to be engulfed in the warmth of the sweet scent that was just behind the door.

The hand that was bracing himself against the doorway came down to rub his temples in frustration as he tried to think of a way to disprove or change what he smelled in the Amortentia. 

It was too tangy and soap-like to be tea, and that was the closest equivalent his brain could muster. It was far too sweet and soft to be a regular cleaning product with muggle added scents. It quite literally smelled like a heavenly mixture of soap and pure honey.

And Amortentia... well Blaise had said it well enough in the Room of Requirement .... Amortentia doesn't lie. It could confuse the consumer if they couldn't place the scents, but Draco knew far too well exactly what he was smelling.

Hermione Fucking Granger would be the death of him and he didn't even know why.

Even in the short few days he had managed to ignore her presence, her shedding curls were a constant reminder that she was there. That they con-existed in the same living arrangement, and she was none the wiser to his mental state with particular regards to her.

Draco pulled his shirt by the back of his collar of his neck with so strong of a force it sent him stumbling back to sit on the edge of the bed. A stream of shivers ran down his spine as his skin met the cold air hastily.

Now shirtless, the slight sheen of sweat covering his torso was obvious. He placed his elbows on his knees and ran his hands through his hair and down his face, sighing in defeat knowing that the distraction of Hermione would surely bring upon the screams inside his head once his body gave away and let him sleep.

"God Dammit" he whispered to himself, the headache rearing its ugly head in the back of his skull as soon as the idea had formed in his brain.

This is going to be a long night, he told himself.

***

"Cissa... you said" Belletrix's shrill shriek was deafening in his head. Draco could almost feel his mother frail arms grasping tightly at his shoulder as he shook from pain.

Narcissa's eyes were cloudy and fearful as she looked between her son and her sister.

"I know what I said......" his Mothers voice was muffled away by strong winds howling in his ears. The memory of his night at Borgin and Burkes routinely haunted his nights.

He couldn't shake the burning feeling beneath his skin, how the ball of fire that erupted from his chest lit up the room, the fear in his Mother's eyes, and the complete shock on his Aunt's face.

Every time the whispers appeared in his head, something from that night was mentioned. Whether it was his mother's scared voice, his Aunt's accusatory tone, Snape's determination to bring him back to the castle quickly, or simply the words of the spell that shook him in his core. Every Time there was something about that night.

The wind that cut off his Mother's retaliation to Bellatix, and swept in a new scene in his head.

"Draco......."

" Draco... you have to let them help you. Hermione and Snape..... You have to let them help you..."

The voice was soft and quiet, but not as frail as his Mothers. It was strong and determined while remaining soft and poise. The tone reminded him of his Mother before the darkness had corrupted her and turned her weak.

He recognized the voice. He had heard it before but couldn't place it like he could the other whispers that would float in his consciousness. He wasn't even sure if the voice was a male or female, it was so cloudy and soft that it could swing either way.

"Draco focus... you have to listen to me ..."

The voice snapped him out, in real time. Like someone was in his head with him and knew he was trying to figure out who it was.

Upon their words a searing pain shot through Draco's head. It was stronger than any whisper or night terror had ever caused. In his sleep he let out a hoarse scream and was thrashing around, tearing the blankets off harshly.

"Draco you have to let them help you ... or they will destroy me..."

The person kept talking. Draco couldn't recall a scene where anyone had said it before. This was new.

He usually could place the scene or time where the words had been said directly to him, or he had overheard. He even was usually able to recognize the moment while he was in the dream, or when the screaming whispers overtook him during the day. There were no swimming images of the Manor, or the Corridors of Hogwarts.

It was like someone else was in his head with him. The Voice was speaking from within him, knowing exactly what he was thinking, and when he was only paying attention to the pain not the voice.

They were trying to warm him.

"... and if they destroy me... it will destroy Narcissa too"

At the mention of his mother's name on the lips of a masked individual Draco woke from his sleep.

Draco's eyes snapped open and he was staring up at the enchanted ceiling of his dorm room, pain searing throughout his body, like the burning sensation was creeping inside him once again. Sparks lurked inside his chest, and a scream was threatening to explode form within his chest

He was gasping, panting, and nearly passing out from lack of oxygen.

He felt like his body was floating in limbo. He knew that his hands had flown to temple, bus touch didn't register in his senses. Draco's body was unresponsive as it reimered into the real world from his dream, and he left hollow.

The moonlight shown through the sliver of glass he called a window, and reflected the beads of cold sweat that fell from his forehead and rippled down his bare chest. He flung his knees over the bed to feel the cold wood on his bare feet. He needed something to ground him to the room, and take him out of the whispers and the pain that tore through his mind and ripped holes in his sanity.

If he thought the smell of Hermione's hair would drive him to the brink of madness, the pain he felt when the knew voice had appeared would take him there ten times faster if it fostered inside him continually.

It felt like the burning from Borgin and Burkes, only deeper and more sedated. Like it was lingering inside him and waiting to rear itself out of him. He could feel the fire underneath him as an annoying sting, but not strong enough to inhabitat him and make him imoble like it had that first night.

He gasped hoarsely, his throat felt scratchy and Draco assumed he'd been screaming in his sleep. There was a pile of blankets twisted at the pool of the bed where he had thrashed and kicked them off, and his pillows were scattered on the ground in the surrounding area of his bed. It looked like a spell had ricochet into the room and blasted it into chaos.

Raking his hand through his hair, still stead at the edge of the bed he decided he needed to get out of the dorms, out of the common room even. He needed air, and water, and to take his mind away from the voice that still lingered in his ears.

Stretching slightly he didn't even bother to put on a shirt as he tested his balance on the wood floors to make his way to the kitchen.

The air was cold against his hot, damp skin:. It was refensing to feel cold after feeling like he was burning in his sleep. He didn't shiver this time as he created a breeze against himself when he walked.

He opened the door with a loud creak. He darted his eyes to Hermione's door, hoping the noise hadn't woken her up. He couldn't deal with questions.

Her door was closed shut. Good, he thought, he was too overwhelmed to think about her.

He had figured out how to turn on the muggle kettle. After watching Hermione brew tea every night, he had caught on to how to work the electric machine, and when to know when it was done. It was just another way he could avoid her in his presence the last few days that he was thankful for. She couldn't very well ask if he wanted her to brew tea if there was already a steaming up in his lap.

Luck wasn't on his side, as he walked past the window seat he was greeted with the smell of her Shampoo, plain as day, and standing right in front of him.

"You look like hell again" Her voice was quiet, and he could tell she was trying to be smug in her small giggle, but her voice sounded like how his throat felt: dry and weak.

He gulped, trying to block the scent from his nose, and ignore the things it was doing to his brain.

"Considering you're awake at ..." he looked over to the clock on the wall "...3 a.m. I assume that you feel how I look".

He knew his voice was weak, it had scratched as the noise came up his throat. He sounded like he'd been tortured, and he presumed he had been screaming in his sleep for a while before he had woken up.

"There is extra hot water for tea..... " of course there is, he thought ".... you get them too then?" she asked, craning her head to the side trying to look at his slung face.

She was asking if he got nightmares.

"You just assume I regularly wake up at 3 a.m. Granger?" he asked back, still sounding course and tired.

"Well you have, recently. You've been going for walks"

She was no nonchalant in her answer, and Draco was almost impressed at how composed she was, knowing she was likely screaming in her sleep herself only a few minutes ago.

"Always knew you were right for Ravenclaw. But yes, yes I get the dreadful things too" he practically spat back at her, trying to force her back into her own room with pure hostility.

He didn't want her empathy, or her questions, or the smell of her hair filling his head. He didn;t even care that she somehow knew that he was leaving the dorm in the dead of night to escape her. Well he supposed she was likely unaware of that last bit, more just that she heard the door open when she had inevitably woken up screaming.

"You don't have to be mean Draco!" she met his level of angry annoyance.

"Well you don't leave me alone" he tried to face her, but regretted it immensely upon seeing her looking so disheveled. She was glowing with rage, and he felt the familiar pang in his chest.

"You ignore me for days ,then get mad at me when I express concern? Is this how it is? I can be angry at you if you want me to".

She darted for him, standing to meet him two feet from his chest. He felt her hot breath fan over his chest, and he was regretting not reaching for his shirt or robe when he had assumed her to be asleep or in her own room.

She was in his space fully now: her breath like a warm blanket, her eyes burrowing into his with such ferocity that he wanted to push her back to the counter and slam her... he stopped his thought.

Her hair was the most infuriating. Unbrushed and unstable, it surrounded her head and fell down her back: and her soft curls brushed against his torso when she took another step.

She was so close.

Honey Soap.

He turned away from her, hands bracing himself on the countertop of the kitchenette where the kettle was sizzling loudly with a shriek.

".. honey.." he said, quite demandingly.

"What?"

"Get the honey Granger, for the tea"

He did his best to sound fluid, but he heard the desperation seep through, he could only hope she assumed it was for the tea and not for her getting out of his headspace.

Draco felt the tension leave his body the second the faint brush of her curls vanished from his shoulder. He was able to stop bracing himself against the counter once he knew she had made her way to the cupboard to fetch the honey.

At least now he could try and tell himself that the smell of honey was wafting from the tea, not her.

She didn't resume the conversation once she handed him the small glass jar that kept the honey. She slipped it into his hands and went to sit in the window seat. From the corner of his eyes, he saw her head tilt up to look at the stars, and he noted that the silky fabric of her pajama shorts rode up on her thighs.

No... he told himself, willing his eyes away to focus on measuring out the honey.

He hadn't ever really liked honey in his tea. One spoonful was one thing he could enjoy, but the amount he was pouring in was excessive and he knew it. He knew he was trying to drown out the soupy mixture of her shampoo in favour for the pure honey in his tea.

A slight, but worldly change, that he supposed would help him focus.

He brought the scalding liquid to his lips before heading for his room. He grumbled slightly to himself, knowing he would have to pass her curled up figure in the window seat in order to reach his room.

"I haven't started the book you found. I'll let you know if I find anything" he voice cut through his thoughts and he stopped just at her feet at the window seat.

"Oh... right" he sighed. He had completely forgotten about the book he had found in the Room of Requirement when Blaise had intergotted him, and then ruthlessly laughed at him.

She turned her head to look at him, never having to adjust the height of her eyes from where they had been at the sky to his. When she was curled up in the seat she was almost two feet shorter than him, and looked nearly as frail and confused as he felt.

He saw the sympathy in her eyes and he fixed his gaze on the star that had recently occupied her vision.

"If they are really that bad..." she started, turning her eyes back out the window and up to the shining night sky "... wake me up when you go for walks ... I don't like being alone after them... and ... and it might help you too" .

He didn't try to respond this time. He just tore away his eyes from the window, and walked straight to his door, careful not to jostle his scalding cup.

As his hand reached for the door, she spoke again.

"... just think about it. Okay?" she asked, still looking out the window. He followed her eyes and found the set on Orion.

"Goodnight Granger" he finally rasped out, pulling the door open sharply and slipping inside the door.

Once inside his wards he didn't hear if she had said anything back.

He laid himself flat on the bed, back to the mattress and staring up at the enchanted ceiling of the night sky above his head. With his chest bare he was sure he would feel a cool breeze through his open window. Hermione had herself curled up to retain her own body heat. But he is burning.

Burning, not in the same way he had at Borgin and Burkes. In a new way that he didn't recognize.

There was too much forgen matter for one evening: he thought to himself.

Blaise strange acceptance, or at least non refusal of his confession, the new sense of burning that arose when he was in Hermione's presence, and the new voice he could recognize but not place.

Far too much forgenness for one night in his opinion.

He closed his eyes, discarding and forgetting his still steaming tea on his nightstand and let himself fall into slumber.

He heard the voice flash in his ears, followed by a bright golden light behind his eyes as he succumbed to the darkness.

"Draco... please... they will come for me....." They were scared, and still pleading, and Draco had no idea who it was.

"....Please Draco... I can't tell you"


	11. Chapter 11: An Obscurus?

6th Year, October 11th

Draco woke up screaming in the dead of night every evening that week. Hermione did not. Or if she had, she hadn't left her room and made it known.

He liked the silence and tranquility that midnight provided. It was as if the world had stopped in its tracks, leaving him to contemple his thoughts as if they were of another world.

He didn't go for a walk the rest of the week. Even under the possibility that Hermione was sound asleep in her bed, he was sure if he opened the door to the common room that she would walk out and ask to go with him.

She had made another comment about midnight walks in potions class on Tuesday. Her comment was the reason he wasn't sure if she was awake or not when he woke up at night.

\- "Next time knock on my door if you leave the common room for a walk, I said I wanted to go"

\- "We're not exactly friends Granger"- he didn't look up as they, all the students, gathered around Slughorn's main table to give a demonstration.

She had switched places with Aurie to stand beside him and whisper. Clearly he wasn't the only one who wasn't eager to announce to the student population they could act civil and decently nice to one another. Even if he did sometimes want to slam the door in her face or...

\- "But we don't hate each other either"- she whispered back, he could almost feel her smile next to him.

\- "That's a bold assumption to make"- he scoffed, leaning in further to look at how slughorn moved his wand over the cauldron.

\- "Perhaps" - she started again, nudging his side with her elbow. He couldn't smell her shampoo for the first time, and he wondered if she had taken up her own offer to change it out for him, - " but I don't think I'm wrong. Just knock on the damn door Draco" -.

He told himself that because of her words on tuesday he wouldn't even try to go for a walk. Instead he settled himself on the window seat between their room and looked up at the stars.

They were more calming than he realized. He had memorized the constellations when he was young, and his Mother would often take him out to the Manor Garden at night and point at the stars to quiz him. She would make jokes about her family members when she pointed to a star that they were named after.

He missed that. She stopped when he started going to Hogwarts.

He tried his best not to think of his Mother, or least not very much. If he left his mind wonder too far into anything the whispers would return. He even found that if he focussed on a certain person who would appear in his dream as a whisper, their voice would be the most present that evening once he had sunk into the mattress.

As he sat in the window seat every night he would periodically look at Hermione's door. She hadn't come out once, and he didn't know if she was asleep or not. She had never mentioned warding her door, and if she hadn't warded it he presumed he would have heard the thrashing and screams.

She was either finding a peaceful sleep, or incredibly good at hiding as he was awake. He never heard a peep.

Once it came to Thursday night, Draco found that he couldn't even pull himself back into sleep after waking up at 5am screaming and thrashing after images of his Mother when he came home after 5th year flooded his nightmares.

He didn't particularly want to sleep again, knowing the images and whispers would only resurface, but he knew his meeting with Snape that evening wasn't going to be easy. Snape had pulled him into the corner the previous day and asked him to come with his fully fleshed-out plan on parchment.

Instead of falling asleep, he sat at the small desk in his room and pulled out a piece of parchment to scribble his notes down. He had been able to check out books from the library and find more information on Heirloom Charms after Flitwick had mentioned them briefly in class.

Having the restricted section open to him meant that he could read uncensored archives and the introduction of dark magic. He couldn't find anything of use to cast the spell, much less the wandwork, but he was able to find out how to go about acquiring the correct heirloom.

"The Inherent Destruction Resulting for Family Curses, Volume 3" had explained that "Heirloom Curses are ineffective if the object that is charmed has zero value to the cator or the doomed. The Curse will work just as effectively under either chance, but iron and gold are the best agents for binding the charm and concealing it from even a powerful observer".

He scribbled the line onto his parchment, along with a brief list of possible objects that he could use to conceal the charmwork. His only plan to get it to him was still through the owlery, and he supposed that using an owl that wasn't his or a known acquaintance would be better off if the plan went haywire.

After scribbling down all his ideas, he rolled the thick parchment up tightly, and secured it with a small piece of twine to ensure it wouldn't unravel and another student would see.

He had learned a decent amount from the textbook about Heirloom Charms. Even simple ones were extremely effective in causing harm. Increasing the fatality of one took a considerable amount of power and effort. Draco was sure he would be able to figure it out. Simple wandork would come easy, the swirling motion needed was something a second year could master without much difficulty.

It was the host object he couldn't get ahold of. Despite Heirloom curses being relatively easy to cast, it was maintaining the crs within an object that proposed a diffuse sitting.

-The less important the object, the less time the curse will hold, and less effective in causing fatal harm - the textbook ahd read. Draco knew finding an article of Dumbledores would prve likely impossible.

He pondered the idea of ticking Hermione into telling him some information. Her and her duo had grown close to the cold wizard, his favouritism of them was blatantly obvious to all of Hogwarts. But Dumbdle had been a recluse all year, he figured even they were unaware of his situations at this point.

His only contact with significant heirlooms for his would be to go through Snape. Draco didn't want to outlet Snape, for fear of being exposed as inadequate in the Dark Lord's observation. The notion that his infancy and weakness could mix with his father's failures and cause more harm to Mother ate away atim.

Draco often wondered if his only determination behind completing his mission was to see to it that his Mother was safe. His mother had even hinted as such when she clung to him at King's Cross in Sempeter. She windered her worries in his ear as she clung to him with more force than he even knew her body could exert.

Draco groaned, dropping his head into his hands with a habered sigh.

The clock read 6:55.

Draco groaned, and hauled himself up to get ready.

Emerging from his room he saw Hermione in the kitchen, her books piled a mile high on the wooden table, and her hair tamed back into a low bun.

"Well you look how I feel" she laughed, looking over him.

He knew she was right. His lack of sleep the whole week, coupled with his inability to gain anymore the previous night meant he surely looked like death himself.

"Rich coming from someone who's been sleeping through the night" he saved over to the counter to brew some tea parallel to her.

He could smell her shampoo again now, and he groaned loud enough to hear.

"I haven't. That bad huh?" he asked, looking up to try and catch his eye.

"You have no idea" she truly didn't.

He felt Hermione's eyes looking him up and down, trying to see if there was physical pain behind his metal facade to her.

"Then why haven't you been going on walks? They seemed to help before, now you look 10 times worse"

He placed his hand over her heart jokingly "ouch" he whimpered. She didn't take his joke, and continued to move closer to him, trying to meet his eyes.

"Not working" she said sternly.

He sighed, taking the honey in the spooley, he tried to tell himself that the scent was his tea again. It wasn't working, again.

"Fine, I haven't been going for a walk because I didn't know if you were awake or not," he blurted out before he could catch himself, and he knew as soon as they left his lips that they came out entirely wrong.

"Since when was my presence necessary for you to function Draco?" she joked.

"That Is not what I mean and you know that!" she snapped, finally turned to face her, and gave her the satisfaction of meeting his eyes with hers.

He knew she saw the stress and desperation, he could only hope she couldn't see anything else.

She smiled slightly; finally getting what she wanted, his undivided attention. The spooley of tea was still in his hand, the honey never made it in, instead dripping off onto the country slowly.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, and as Draco watched the motion he saw that the two top buttons of her blouse were undone, exposing her collarbones.

He gulped, trying to get the scent out of his nose, and his eyes away from her immediately.

"If you really need me awake, just knock on the door, there are no wards so you won't go flying backwards" she spoke as she finally turned away from him, gathering her books. The book he had brought her on monday placed directly on the top of her stack, with several parchments dangling and speaking from its pages.

"If I hear you leaving, I'll follow-"

"Don't count on that Granger" he gulped before finally finding words that didn't expose him.

"Oh I am" she hummed, walking out of the common area's arched doorway, and into the corridor.

Draco bit his lip trying not to smile at her smugness.

Dear god the things sheas doing: he thought before smacking himself, and beginning to clean up the spilled honey. The honey which was doing nothing to alleviate the string scent of her still wafting through the room and tingling his nose.

***

Draco made it through Potions with Slughorn and Charms with Flitwick without another incident involving Hermione. He was decidedly less than pleased with the cat that she is so normal around him. He had hoped his brief outburst at her on Monday would disengage her, but it made her ruthless in her questioning in the brief occasion she would speak to him.

She hadn't left her room in the dead of night, but would regularly spekat oh i'm after dinner and between classes: pounding his brian with questions and incessant worry over his diminishing appearance.

But their interaction this morning left him actually missing her presence. 

Her sly comment about her being necessary for him to walk at night struck him, hard. And since then he wanted to be curled up in the armchair diving right into the books and find out what was going on with his family.

He couldn't actually tell if he was missing her, her missing making progress. He decided to tell himself that it was the latter.

The Great Hall was quieter than usual. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables were virtually empty because the first quidditch match of the season was that afternoon, and the game was probably still going on.

In the table's absence, the Gyrffindorrs were very quiet at their tables, uneager to commence in conversations with the rowdy young Slytherin's who were just as loud as they usually were. That includes Theo and Pansy who had revealed they kept a vial of Amortentia from that Potions class.

"C'mon after your meeting with Snape you could" Theo insisted.

Blaise was looking at Draco with a burning gaze.

"As fun as it would be to see you Flaunt yourself around looking for Luna, You know that it's banned, and I can't risk my position" Draco was willing to try any excuse over actually taking a drop of Amortentia and revealing his desire.

"Yes of course. You're a super special mission for the Dark Lord that apparently means you must become void of fun" Pansy snickered, leaning her head on Draco's shoulder, clearly trying to guilt him into coming.

"And I do NOT smell Looney Lovegood in the potion, for the record" Theo scoffed.

"You keep telling yourself that" Blaise elbowed him in the ribs jokingly "but last I checked Lovegood is the only one in the school that smells radishes"

"Oh and you go about smelling all the girls in the school do you Blaise?" Pansy laughed, picking her goblet up to her lips.

"Not all--- just the ones I end up in proximity to. In fact I have it on good authority that Gryffindorr's little princess over there..." Blaise briefly met Draco's eyes before turning his Gaze to where Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table "... smells like Honey and Soap".

Blaise turned back to meet Draco's eyes, and Draco wanted to punch him out for taunting him. Despite Theo and Pansy being none the wiser to Blaise jab at him, he wanted to have a conversation that had to do with ther. Especially a conversation that had to do with her and Amortentia.

Blaise knew exactly how to get under his skin, and it was working remarkably well in his favour.

"Hmmm, did you identify the little brat in your potion Blaise. Promise I won't tell" Pansy teased.

"No, not me.... I had much more... Sophisticated scent in mine" he smiled under his chin. Blaise diverted his conversion upon seeing Draco shoot daggers at him."C'mon Draco, I'd be honoured to see you try and rip Pants' clothe soff in the common room, like old times"

Pansy's cheeks burned red.

Draco stared at Blaise daringly. He knew exactly which nerve he was pushing and he was not impressed.

Theo was the next one to speak, sensing the rising tension at the table.

"Well that's only if Draco has actually smelled Pans in the Amortentia. From my knowledge Pans only smelled herself, and he's a more narcissistic git than she is. He probably smelled himself too" Theo Laughed, and Blaise took his opportunity to chime and.

"Oh then they are perfect for eachother. Two narcissists, what could go wrong?" as Blaise brought the cup to his lips he winked at Draco behind the rim, so only he could see. Draco only glared at him in return.

"Well as fun as it is discussing all of our pathetic little love lives, I've got somewhere to be" Draco spoke sharply enough that theo didn't retort back with a joke, and Blaise let him off without taunting him further about his previous confession that Hermione Granger's hair was everywhere.

As he walked from the Great Hall and down into the dungeons to Snape's office he pulled the scroll from his robes, unfurling it to read over what he had written.

-Heirloom Charms -

\- need to be an artifact or object of significance of actors or victim-

\- iron and gold are the best houses for the curse-

-silk fabric guards against effects from the object -

\- wandwork: simple spiral pattern-

\- spell: unknown-

-Objects-

\- use a Malfoy family heirloom/object presented as a gift from his Father through the owl post-

-Malfoy family crest pin-

\- One of Mother's jewels-

Snape had been omniscient to listen to his plan on their last visit. Now that he had a better grasp of how Heirloom charms operated, and ideas on what to use to hold the cures, and how to acquire the object, he hoped Snape would let off his back for a few weeks.

Maybe then he could focus on understanding why the Black family tree was in question, instead of worrying about weekly reporting to his Head of House who seemed just as displeased as him to be there.

Logically he knew that Snape would likely still request hisprecnce every week. But if Snape thought that Draco was working on an attempt, he might lighten the meeting to brief updates instead of fully fledged interrogations and the occasional threat from the Dark Lord.

"I take it you have all the information you could gather, and nothing less than that?" Snape's crude voice sent cold shivers down Draco's spine. Too many times had that whisper haunted his dreams for him to be wholly unaffected when it was in real life.

"Yes Professor" he answered, as Snape circled him all the while Draco sat fixed in a chair opposite his desk.

Snape took the unraveled parchment from Draco's extended hand and scanned it over briefly, before handing it back to him.

"Your mother would like assurance that you are doing fine. That you haven't had any lingering symptoms?"

"You've spoken with my Mother?" Draco asked.

He was under the impression that no one was allowed to have contact with his Mother under his Father's orders. While his absence remained from the Manor, and she was under the supervision of Senior Death Eaters. Even his Owls were being turned away, and returned his own letters back to him.

"On the request of your Mother, your Luscious had conceded and allowed her contact with me, in representative of you. She won't assure you that you are doing well, and that there have been no lingering symptoms?" he repeated his question, only vaguely answering how his Mother had remained in contact with him.

"Tell her I'm fine"

"That is an unsatisfactory anwer Mr Malfoy '' Snape whacked the back of his head with a stack of parchment, in such a fashion as Draco had seen him do to students who were misbehaving.

"Alright" he conceded. "I hear whispers in my dreams, have all summer, and since I came back to Hogwarts" he defeated himself into the cahir, slumping down, fearing Snape's wrath for not telling him sooner.

It never came. A humble silence fell into the room ,as Draco watched his Professor ponder what he had just released into the world.

"Are they dreams?" he asked somberly, plucking a book from his textbook cabinet.

"Not exactly. It happens when I'm awake and doze off, or focus too strong on something"

Draco was in no position to lie, and he knew better than to try. Snape was a known occulems, and a rumoured legilimens. Even if Draco tried to lie, he would see straight through him.

Concealing information, and giving vague and simple answers was all that Draco could do to steer him away from the conversion. To make it seem boring and pointless, despite Draco knowing it wasn't, and wondering why they were occurring with such ferocity.

"Are they past events, or prophetic in nature?" Snape asked. Draco was begging to dread his questions almost as much as he dreaded Hermiones. At Least Hermione was avidly helping him come to a conclusion, Snape just seemed like he needed information. In some part of Draco's mind, he knew that was exactly what he was using Hermione for, but lumpled the idea in his chest.

"Past events, or they have been until recently"

Snape ignored the beginning of Draco's confession, opening to focus on his last statement. "Recently?" he asked.

"The past week. There's been a voice I can't place"

"Interesting" Snape walked over to his desk, leaving Draco bewildered in the middle of the room "Go"

"That's all? Nothing about the plan?"

"As you recall Mr Malfoy I am not here to hand you your mission's results. I am merely here to aid you on the ask of your Mother and Father. You've got yourself sorted, now see to it that it's concluded by Christmas" Snape was sharp. The hint of curiosity that laid behind his tone when Draco was describing the whispers in his head was erased, and all that remained was crude interest and vile intentions.

"Yes sir"

***

Draco thought about heading to the Slytherin common room and watching idly as Theo, Blaise, and Pansy took the Amortentia for what Theo had deemed 'Scientific Reasons'. But he was sure Pansy would attempt to make him take the potion.

Seeing as the effects of simply smelling it did weird things to his brain, he was under no circumstance eager to see what ingesting it into his system would do. Much less in front of his pure-blood Slytherin friends. The prospects of him not being able to conceal his strange adoration for Hermione would set his friends into a chaotic frenzy that would likely end with him dead at the hands of either of them.

Not to mention Blaise verbal and non-verbal torture if he went and didn't take the potion. Draco was sure Blaise would taunt him all night long with slights about her, and try to get him to fess to what he smelled in the air. After letting slip that he knew Hermione smelled of Honey and soap, a fact he only knew because Draco had told him, were Draco to admit the room smelled like her, he would be ruined.

Likewise, Draco would practically ruin himself if they found out.

No, he couldn't let that happen. Instead he fastened back to the common room. The idea of facing her was much more welcoming than the Slytherin common room. Instead of cold and damp, their dorm was warm and soft.

"Granger" he yelled, stepping through the painting.

Her head peeked out from her bedroom door, she looked shocked to see him.

"Why aren't you with Snape?" she asked, still not moving her lower body from the frame.

"Out early, why are you hiding?"

"No reason" she turned her head down, and a soft blush rose to her cheeks, he had to stop himself from smiling again by biting his lip.

"What? You hiding a Weasel in your room?" he asked snarkily, moving to the kitchen.

"Don't be ridiculous. You know the wards don't let anyone in, and besides ... it's... its not like that"

"Hmmm" he hummed, dropping his books and making his way to his own door, parallel to hers. "You keep telling yourself that".

"I'm serious" her hand slipped from the doorframe and she started inside.

Despite wanting nothing more than to will away the world in dreamland, Draco knew they needed to make headway on what the Black family was concealing. If he was going to off Albus Dubledore by Christmas, he needed to have worked out everything else before then.

"Get your books Granger, we have work to do"

Her eyes lit up as she turned back to him briefly before darting inside and he heard shuffling. He entered his own room and chucked off his uniform in favour of plain nighttime trousers, and a plain black t-shirt.He grabbed his quill and parchment stack and met and already eager Hermione on the carpet by the bookcases.

She had laid out each of her books and their parchments into clusters. Pages and adjoining notes were labelled, and her ink had been refilled to the brim.

He sat in the arm chair so that he was physically above her, asserting some dominance in the conversations with merely his physical seating, despite feeling wholly incapable of verbally dominating the conversation in any aspect.

" What have you found?" he asked, picking up the Sacred 28 book he had found in the Room of Requirement.

"It's tricky, there are lots of gaps in the tree, even in the older books people are written off" Hermione pointed to where one of the pages of the family tree had been torn out.

"Yeah they tend to do that... you won't find much on the ones they don't want you too" he sighed looking at her parchment.

It was the same one hand picked the night he had shouted at her in her room with his incessant rudeness.

The inked out word bore back at home, reminding him of his questions the first time he had stumbled upon it, and found out what it was when he had held it up to the candle-light to read it.

What was an obscurus? It sounded like a creature, but not one he had ever learned about, not that he paid particular attention to Care of Magical Creature in third year. But it sounded dark in nature, and he also hadn't heard it at home?

He followed those actions again as he brought it up, Hermione watching his every move.

"Granger, what's an obscurus?" he asked, still eyes the parchment as the words became visible underneath the bright light.

"Oh... umm... well I ruled it out so it doesn't matter" she tried to divert him, by thrusting another epic of parchment in his lap. He tossed it aside to the floor, still clutching the one where his name was listed.

"You wrote it as a possibility under my name. I think I have the right to know why" Draco leaned down to put his elbows on his knees, meeting her eye level while she kneeled in front of him. His tone was demanding, but he didn't yell. Everytime he had she would stomp off to her room like a bratty child, or worse, she'd invade his personal space with her mind-numbing scent and make his thoughts turn to jelly.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione said under her breath, just audible for him to hear.

He didn't take it. He couldn't understand what could be so bad that she was hiding a possible lead from him.

"Granger..." he started, his teeth gritting together in ruthless anger, trying not to explode, needing the information.

"It's.. kind of like a magical maladie..." She started, flipping open the Magical Medicine book she had procured from the library.

She showed him a page. There was a dark, swirling moving photograph in the centre. It spicaled and smoked as it zipped through the air. It tore down anything in its path, and left a trail of rubble behind it. That was only a snippet of its power from the photograph, and Draco started to understand why she sisn;t tell him.

If this was a possibility, it wouldn't end well.

"So, it's some form of creature?" he asked, still not fully understanding what or how this affected him. He knew if it did , it was bad.

The image looked like an artist's rendering of the boogie man. A living nightmare that would wreak real havoc, not just in the dreams of children.

"No, not even close unfortunately. Remember when I said that magical signatures are not detected in medicine?"

"Yes'' it was one of the first things she had found absolute evidence in. That the spell used to look at his signature was old, Celtic, and isconstied by any Magical Agency in Europe.

"An obscruis is like a sickness. It develops in the absence of care and nature in magical infants. There isn't a lot of research, the only thing I've found is a book by Newt Scammander that states verbadium - and obscuris develops in the absence of love, in rare occasions does an obd suis live in a host past age 10 before it becomes to detsurve for the body to handle, some refer to this malaise as a dark twin because each tobuscus is a unique output of one's magical signature -"

Draco just stared at her, trying to piece together what she said. Hermione continued to talk, clarifying what it meant and why she had ruled it out.

"It was the first place I had found the term -magical signature- in any text that isn't restricted. Even on the off shoot I wrote it down. But the more I looked into it, the more it didn't fit"

"How so?" he asked, not wanting to rule anything out. kNowing his family, a maladie like this would be covered up so intensely and discreetly, even though the possibility still existed deep in his blood lineage.

"Well for one you are over the age of 10, Scammander says it's rare to live that long. And also, the oscars in this picture..." she pointed again to the swirling black cloud "... is the magical signature. It bursts out and creates chaos. Your magical signature was a ball of fire. It doesn't fit"

Draco knew his magical signature. He felt it deep in his bones the second the spell hit him. The burning, the fire, the feeling of being consumed in flames. Even if it wasn't that, he didn't want to rule it out, something so rare could be missed.

"You can one hundred percent rule it out?" he asked for clarification, looking down, and taking the book from her hands.

"I think so.." Draco cut her off.

"Think, isn't certainty Granger, I need certainty" he raised his voice more than he intended to, and acted of desperation to find the answers.

He adjusted himself, taking a breath as Hermione remained silent and stunned at his outburst. Draco saw the flicker of anger in her eyes, and composed himself enough to speak, cutting off whatever her outburst was to follow.

"Just... can you? Can you rule it out? Am I for sure not an obscurus?" he asked, hanging his head low, to look at the described photograph.

Her voice was hesitant, then it prickled through his core as the weight of her words crashed down on him like a tidal wave.

"No. No I'm not certain"


	12. Chapter 12:Definitely Not a Dream

6th Year, October 12

The humble silence that fell over their common room when Hermione admitted that she couldn't fully rule out Draco being an obscurant stayed for a long while.

She kept making notes based on the books, asking Draco to entertain her Theories. For once he allowed her questions with ease and only a tinge of annoyance. Her eyes were moving rapidly from books to parchment, repeating the action steadily every time she noted something of importance.

Draco still wasn't sure what an obscurus was. Her brief and vague description left him with more questions than answers.

She had said it formed in the absence of a love, or rather she had read that from Newt Scammander's book. But his mother had loved him more than he possibly thought a mother could love her son. His father wasn't as sentimental or dear, but he cherished his only child and wanted him to succeed. In some ways, Draco had considered his father's ambition for him, to be his father's way of displaying affection and adoration. Not that his father would ever admit that verbally.

Then there was the question of his magical signature. Hermione had said that while it wasn't confirmed that the black tornado of smoke was the output of a child's obscurus' magical signature. She hinted that her books and studies lead her to believe that. His signature, as the night at Borgin and Burkes had proved, was a bursting ball of flames, not a ball of black swirling ash.

Different, yet connected: he thought.

Draco and Hermione stayed in the common room like that for hours that night. Combing through the worn pages of the old textbooks, and writing theories, only for Hemrione to cross them off one by one when a single piece of the puzzle didn't fit that narrative.

Draco wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep, but he understood he was when the voices flooded his senses. Putting him into a mental frenzy.

\- "Narcissa you know what will happen....." - He didn't recognize the voice. It was soft and stern, much like his mother, but it held a yield of caution behind it.

-"I know... but.. I can't risk him"- he heard his mother's whisper follow.

He didn't know when this scene had taken place, or if he had been present. To be honest, he didn't know if this scene had ever folded into reality, or if his mind was tricking him.

\- " You don't have to risk him. Either of them. It'll be safer when they are with you" the stern vice turned back to mother. He recognized it was female, and that it was a different new voice than the one he had heard the previous nights.

-" You and I both know this is safer...."- Narcissa voice stall - "please, he can't know"-

He? Was he referring to him?

-" You can't visit. Not until much later"-

-"I can't visit at all"- His mother cut off the female voice, - "Go. Now, if they see too many memories they will know something is wrong"-

-"Narcissa..." the voice was nearly silent in its plea.

-"Go."- his mother's voice was trembling, he could only imagine the tears that would be slipping from her eyes. He couldn't see the images or the scene. He hadn't been present for the conversation, but it somehow felt more real that the other he had been there for.

A strong hissing scream cut through his head, sending a rush of pain to his the space behind his eyes. It crushed his thoughts with blinding punishment, and left him a shell in his own head when it finally died down.

"Draco" The voice from the nights before returned. Shallow. Scared. Soft.

"Draco... Please... they're going to kill me..." the voice was trembling just as much as his mother's had been only seconds ago.

Like the unknown woman was pleading with his Mother, this unknown voice was pleading with him.

"Please...." the voice drew out.

Draco awoke to someone softly nudging his shoulder.

"Draco..." a soft voice whispered, only a hair's breadth from his shoulder. He could feel the warmth tingle his shoulder as they spoke lightly.

"Draco... Wake up.... Your babbling, wake up...." the nudging continued until he opened his eyes slowly to see Hermione's petite frame hovering over him, a worried look plastered across her delicate features.

"..wh..what?" he grumbled, trying to adjust his eyes to the stinging candlelight.

He felt her hand still resting on his shoulder, her warmth seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt.

"You fell asleep... and then you started babbling... It was mostly incoherent... but you .. you sounded scared" Her voice shook slightly.

At her voice rack Drcao was debating yelling at her for her sympathy and trying to calm her down and ssure her she was fine. He tore his eyes from the ceiling above to equal to hers, and he shook in a breath.

She was looming over him, her curls cradling around on her head. Like A halo: he thought. The scent engulfed him in warmth, and his breathing settled just having the softness around him.

He didn't say anything, only started blankly at her. She seemed to grow more worried at his silence and incredulous stare.

"Draco..." she started to speak again. He stooped her by placid ga firm hand over hers where it still lay on his shoulder.

"I'm fine" He didn't sound convincing, and she didn't buy it. Her eyes grew wide with worry, but she didn't try to move her hand from where he had trapped it in his.

"No, you're not" she was from her worry, and for once he did want to shrink in on himself.

In his weakened state she was intimidating. While he knew he could physically overpower her. She was surprisingly good at mind games, and driving him to the brink of insanity. Her 'high road' stunt had turned into a level of normalcy, and her worry for him only seemed to grow the more he tried to dispute it.

He took his hand off hers, and let it drop to his side. His palm felt cold and empty with a feeling he had not experienced before.

Longing.

Longing for her tender and gentle touch. Her soothing hand in his. Longing for her scent to engulf him and trap away everything else in the world so that he felt like he was suffocating her.

He longed for it, instead of dreading it. Like he knew he should

Her hand rested on his shoulder in a caressing sympathetic act. He didn;t push her way, to his surprise and hers.

"Do you want to talk about it now?" Hermione had sat down on the armrest of the large velvet armchair. With her frame no longer standing and looming over him, he lost some of the sense of her hair in his face.

Draco didn't respond to her question, instead turned his head to focus on her hand that rested on his shoulder. He felt the warmth touching him as if her hand were on his bare skin. It tingles in softness, and he liked it.

His silence brought more questions from her.

"I know you said you didn't... but I let you sleep for a couple hours..." she stopped, seemingly asking herself if she wanted to continue "... and not a minute of it was restull" she finished, decdily making her point.

Draco signed. Reaching on hand to caress his temple and rib circled on the side of his forehead. A gesture he had hoped would soothe his aching mind. He knew his sleep was restless. He would wake up in a tangle of sheets cutting off his circulation, or without a slip of mattress cover on the bed. He would wake up with beads of sweat down his brow, and a throat hoarse enough his speech could rival an elderly wizard.

"How long did you let me sleep?" as he asked the question he could feel that his throat was bone dry. At least he hadn't been screaming: he thought. If he had been screaming Draco imagined that Hermione would have gotten a professor immediately thinking he was being tortured with a hex, not simply having a bad dream.

But that was just it wasn't it? Were they just bad dreams?

Drao had assumed that the shapers he heard in his head were merely nightmares all summer. They only occurred in slumber in the warm months, and he would usually wake up without a memory of their content, only with the feelings of dread and weakness in his limbs.

When he had gotten to Hogwarts they became daytime burned to him as well. Invading his mind wherever he dozed or fixated on anything or anyone. They grew more frequent and painful the longer he had stayed at the castle, and significantly since the night at Borgin and Burkes.

"Two hours. You needed it." she whispered the last bit, averting her gaze to the books on the floor.

"Did you sleep?" he asked her , looking at the cloaks which read roughly two o'clock in the morning.

"No... I didn't need to" She picked herself off the armchair and landed her frame back on the floor between her books.

"Were you planning on it?" Her well-being had never been a concern for him. However, the idea that she was content to let him rest while she stayed up researching what was effectively his problem felt wrong. Even if Draco was telling himself that her help was only at his exploitation, she needed sleep.

Behind her untamed curls, and clever smile, she was a wreck; he saw right through it. There were bags under their eyes and her body didn;t command presence, she was weak, frail, and stumbled when she walked.

"Yes... I'd take a short nap when the suns started to come up, then another between classes'' her hands splayed over the page of Newt Scamannder's textbook. It was open to the Obscruis page still, and he wondered if she thought the idea wasn't wholly outlandish.

"That's not nearly enough. For the 'Brightest Witch of her Age' are you really that daft to think I wouldn't know that" he taunted, the sincerity in his voice slipped out again, as the thought of her letting him peacefully sleep while she forced herself awake flashed in his mind.

"... I..." she started, but he cut her off when he moved abruptly to sit on the chair properly, not slung over like an animal.

"Don't you dare. If we are discussing my sleeping issues, then we discuss yours. It's a two way street. I can't be the only disaster here" he tried to hide his stone in jokes.

"Believe me, you aren't" she whispered.

"Fine" she whispered again, dropping the book to her side, and hugging her knees to her chest. "You tell me what happens when you close our eyes, and i'll tell you what happens to me"

Her deal intrigued him. Draco was living in the blissful reality where he tlf himself they were dreams, but he knew it was wrong. The minute he told Hermione about the voices, and the ones that didn't seem like dreams, she would immediately try to study him again.

On the other side of her deal, she offered a trade of misery. His secrets for hers. It was no secret to either of them that they both were a wreck in the dead of the night, so why keep it so hidden? He supposed she could go gallivanting to Potter and Weasel, but come to think he hadn't seen him really engage with the two of them in an avid conversation all week. The same goes for him and his friends, barely communicating.

Clearly the night-time horrors were tearing them apart. Maybe they were both ready to accept that?

"If I agree to this, you go first, you don't tell anyone, and you don't study me" The words flew from Draco's mouth before he could stop and let his brain process them. He didn't regret them, but he wished he hadn't made himself sound like he was at her mercy. At the brink of destruction and awaiting in her promise like a kicked puppy.

"Deal" her response was quick, and she shoved the books and parchment awat in one arms-swipe so that he could join her position sitting on the floor: another way of marking equal he thought.

Draco nodded at her, impatiently awaiting her confession. After he had seen so much agony from him ,it was only fitting.

If his nightmares were bad enough to where he would sleep, then wake up? He was having trouble thinking about how bad hers were to make her avoid sleep altogether. The physical pain ,and emotional torment he woke up with her eating him away inside to the point there he found comfort in her presence.

"I see visions of my parents dying. In elaborate ways at the hands of Death Eaters" she was whispering.

Draco couldn't help it when his bottom lip fell and he gasped lightly.

"I know that no matter how this war will end, they will be in danger. Muggle parents of a witch associated with Harry Potter will be enough for Voldemort's supporters to go after them... To get to me... and to Harry '' She wasn't able to look at him, instead she watched her own hands twiddle with the teacher in her lap.

He felt the strange urge to comfort her again and the pang in his ribs that he had felt so many times before in her presence was familiar to him.

"You don't know that" he didn't try to stop the words as they flowed from his lips.

"Yes... I do. After what they did to Neville's parents... they were pure-bloods... they won't be quick... they will torture them"

She had tears falling from her eyes, not enough to make a sound, but definitely enough for Draco to notice.

"Ugh, dammit" she whispered, drawing up her arm to wipe her tears away with the back of her hand.

She seemed to be able to hide her torments, at least from her friends, not particularly well from him. The sense of comfortably that grew between them but just living in proximity to each other disturbed Draco on many occasions. This being one of them. She became vulnerable at night, evident by her asking to go on walks with him. He understood now that she didn't want to go with him for his sake, but for hers. She dreaded being alone with her thoughts.

Draco didn't understand her comparisons to Neville's parents.

"What do you mean Longbotoom's parents?" he asked, hoping a slight deviant in conversation would make her stop crying.

"Oh like you don't know" she cuffed behind her teary eyes, not believing his question was genuine.

He knew his Aunt had tortured them, but his Mother had always told him that they died quickly. She would say that their bodies were weak from their years in the first Order to the Phoenix, and that their ends were quick but painful. His Mother always emphasized the quick part, making the actions seem humane, despite Draco thinking it was heinous.

"My Mother told me that my Aunt killed them, Granger. She said it was quick" he whispered, leaning his head back on the seat of the armchair, his eyes never breaking from her.

Hermione darted her head up quickly, meeting his eyes with a shocked expression. Draco watched her scan his face, knowing she would find questions behind it, he let her without argument.

"You don't know..." she said to herself, meeting his eyes once again once her scan is complete.

"I don't bloody know what, Granger?" he asked.

"Neville's parents are alive, well at least physically. Belletrix tortured them with Crucio until they couldn't remember anything, not Neville, not even themselves. They are at St Mungo's, and have been since Neville was a baby" her voice cut out at several points, choking on her words trying to explain.

Draco just stared back. His Aunt always gloated about her tortue of the Longbottoms, but never mentioned the aftermath. He had taken his Mother's words that they were dead. He had no idea that Longbottom's parents were alive, and a shell of the people they once were.

"I---" he started, not finding the words.

"Neville visits them with his Gran, we met them last year by accident when Arthur Weasley was attacked and being treated by the Healers" Hermione continued. Draco simply stared at her. His mouth agae, and his eyes burrowing at her in frustration, trying to comprehend the line between his mother's lies and Hermione's speech.

"If they could do that to a Pureblood family, I imagine they could do worse to my parents" she whispered, letting her eyes fall from his and landing again on her lap where her hands fiddled with each other.

"Is it noise? Or visions?" he asked, wanting the conversation away from his Aunt and the Longbottoms torture, and the lies his mother had spewed to him in expense to spare his innocence.. It clearly pained her to think about Neville's parents. He wondered if Neville had talked about them to her, if she knew the horrors of his life when his parents were alive but couldn't recognize them.

"It's silent. Never any noise. Just pictures of scenes of .... " her tears returned, falling silently and free ".... of their bodies".

Hermione curled her body inwards, wrapping her arms around her legs and burying her head in her eyes. Her body was shaking slightly, and Draco knew she was seeing the pictures again in her mind, the same way the whispers lingered in his head whenever he spoke about or thought about them.

He had never met her parents, or seen pictures, but he images her mothers body, her hair the same as Hermione's laying down dead beside a blank image of her father's. The image sent chills up his spine. He hadn't yet witness someone dead, but he knew that death was sometimes better than torture. Hermione's mention of the Longbottoms implied she knew that too, and images their bodies dead after realms of torture, finally meeting a brutal end.

Not Quick. Not Painless.

"I don't see anything" Draco broke the silence, deciding that her turn was over, and it was his turn to uphold the deal. Hermione lifted her head to listen, her arms still clung to her legs, and the shakes didn't subside.

"I hear things, like whispers. Raspy. But they are loud, screaming in my ears, and they give me headaches" he continued. He decided that having her feel his pain might be less than feeling her own.

"What do they say?" Hermione managed to squeak out.

"Memories, mostly. Things I can remember people saying to me, or things said around me. I can recognize all the voices, except one" Hermione perked up at his words, as if he had said something she was waiting for.

"And the one?" she asked, then clarified "The voice you can't recognize, is it threatening?"

"On the contrary, it's pleading. It's asking for help from me" he confessed.

"Is it your Mother?" She stalled her words right before saying them, wondering if she would touch a nerve asking.

Draco knew what she was trying to imply. His mother was his link to the Black family tree, and she wanted to know if that was the connection that changed his magical signature. If his dreams and his family were connected. That link, one between his dreams and his blood, could be a peice of the puzzle that was missing in their research.

But it wasn't. It wasn't his Mother's voice that caused his eerie pain in the pitch blacke of night. He knew his Mother's voice. Soothing and hard. Not soft and scared.

"No -- no, I would recognise her voice anywhere. She's in them too, telling me I don't have to ---" Draco stopped himself.

He had already said so much that could make her wonder, and she didn't need to know anything that could make her suspect that he was doing something beside simply attending school.

His mission was still the most important apset of their current situation. In fact, it was the cause of the current situation. Despite being distraught by dreams, Draco still knew his priority was keeping his toe in line, reporting to Snape, and figuring out a way to off his Headmaster. Using Hermione's intelligence was only one thing he could exploit to get there.

"The voice that you can't recognize. Are they saying things you can remember being said to you?"

"No. They talk like it's happening in real time, directly to me like a Leglimins would --- Granger what are you doing?" Between his words Hermione had risen to her feet to collect her parchment and quill and was furiously scribbling things down.

"Those aren't dreams, Draco" she simply stated. He knew they weren't; he was content to think they were and ignore anymore induced trauma to himself for the future.

"Granger--" he started, and she cut him off.

"Is it only when you sleep?" He watched her scribble down her question, an dpasue her quill, awaiting his response.

"... no..." He let himself say, instantly regretting the single word as it fell from his tongue.

"Did you tell Snape? It could be after effects of the spell, or something else. Why haven;t you said anything?"

"They existed before the spell... well they got worse after, and once I got to Hogwarts this year they started coming during the day when I get distracted or focussed"

Hermione wrote down what he said word for word on her parchment.

"Granger you can't possibly think that dreams are connected?" Draco taunted her, trying to get her to leave it alone. He hasn't added her to her dreams, though hers were evidently and truthfully dreams.

"You don't?" she questioned him, finally looking up from her parchment. Her eyes were wide with curiosity, and knees still shook from the aftermath of her deliverance of horror, but her hands were steadily holding her parchment and quill at the ready.

He knew there had to be something, they got worse the longer they went on after the spell. But if they were a black family trait, how could he not have inherited them sooner in his life? Why now? And why at Hogwarts?

"Someone is talking to your mind Draco, and you're not concerned about that?" she asked again, shiffrin her body to be closer to his.

"We don't know that someone is actually trying to talk to me Granger '' he stated firmly, once again staring up at the ceiling, his head supported by the butt of the chair.

"Fine. Yes, we don't know that is what it is, but I'm gonna look into it"

"Of course you will '' he snickers with laugh "Your favourite pastime is studying me and getting on my nerves. I expect nothing less"

She glared at him, and despite not looking at her, he could feel the daggers being shot at him. He laughed a little, knowing his nonchalant demeanor would only annoy her further. In truth the prospect that the dreams were a linkage to anything else had crossed his mind. They had lingered in his head in the rooms of Malfoy Manor, but their triple fold intensity the longer she stayed at the castle intrigued him. Was there something about the castle walls that caused his brain to spasm? Where the ghosts wisped through his ahd, and that was the cause of the shrilling pain?

What he had been less certain about was if the dreams connected to his magical signature. The night at Borgin and Burkes was telling in the reveal that something was amiss. And since that night the dreams had only increased in paon, length, and whispers.

"Will you tell me one thing?" Hermione asked, moving into his airspace so that she was sitting parallel to him.

He could smell her shampoo, and he welcomed it in his head. Warm and soft, clearing the pain that lingered from his "dream".

"Fine," he said, still not looking at her. He didn't trust himself too with her this close to him. He didn;t want her to see the empathy he was gaining for her pain, or for him to see the pain behind his glazed eyes.

"If you figure out who the voice is - tell me"

"If I can bloody decode them then sure, then you'll be the first to know" He sighed.

***

6th Year, October 14th

Draco and Hermione both retreated to their rooms shortly after the confession about their dreams. 

The brutal reality that Hermione Granger now knew some of what went on in his head crashed down on Draco the next morning. He scolded himself for going soft and confessing more than he intended too.

Hermione on the other hand poured herself into the new revelation of Draco's dreams, and was fixated on how they related to his magical signature and the Black family tree. She didn't leave the common room all weekend, besides to sleep. She was out streaked on the floor most of the time, surrounded by books and parchments. A sight Draco had grown very used too.

She barely even spoke, if not to herself mostly when she was trying to rationalize a theory. She asked him to bring her pastry from the Great Hall, and he obliged, finding it a better option that her passing out and him needing to bring pomfrey, or him needing to learn to use the stove. Which, as Hermione had pointed out on Friday, he had not learned how.

Come Monday morning Draco wasn't sure if he'd have to convince her to go to class. She had been so entwined with researching he was convinced that book-obsessed Hermione Granger would actually skip class in favour of finding a breakthrough.

As much as he wanted her too, so he could get this all over with, he also knew that she would never forgive herself for it. After Friday night, parts of him worried for her, like he knew she worried for him.

Hermione had not gone into detail about what images she had seen in her nightmares, but the sliver of information she had confessed to left Draco knowing she was suffering. She isn't sleeping well, that part was obvious, and every time he saw the bags under her eyes the familiar pang in his chest sprung free.

Thankfully Hermione had arrived at potions on Monday morning after all but disappearing all weekend. She walked in with a pep in her step and a smile on her face. A posture that Pansy immediately picked up on, and snickered on about.

"What's got her all happy and dandy?" she whispered to Draco from across the potions table.

The remnants of Pansy's niceties for Hermione slowly diminished over the weekend. Draco barely came around for meals, always rushing back to the dorm, and Pansy was furious with him for it. After refusing the Amortentia game, she had tried to squash him into a broom closet on 3 separate occasions. One of such she was nearly successful.

Sunday Morning when he left the portrait, Draco found Pansy lurking outside the common room, awaiting his arrival in the corridor. The air shook with the cold breeze of fall, and she had explained that she came to fim to borrow his scarf.

-

"I left mine at home, and you've always given me yours" she pleaded, attempting to create contact with his side in her play for 'warmth'.

"Pans it's Sunday morning, you don't even have to be awake at this hour, let alone outside. If you are cold, go back to the fireplace in the dorms" he tried to reason with her as he made his way from the corridor of staircases.

Suddenly Draco felt his back make hard contact with the cold stones sof the castle walls. Pansy was all over him, raking her hands down his chest, and playing her cold fingers over his abdomen.

"But Draco I'm cold... and you always make me warm" she whispered hungirly, trying to push him to the side.

Draco felt the change from cold stone to sanded wood on his back and knew her plight.

"Pans. Let. Go" he said between breaths, holding her off by the shoulders, careful as not to hurt her and cause her wrath. Despite being a fairly gentle creature to animals, she was ruthless when it came to getting her way.

"Come on... you've stayed in the tower too long ... I'm sure there's something I could give you..." she drew her breaths slowly and seductively. Draco felt Pansy's hands shift from his abdomen and he watched them reach her own shirt, impantently undoing the top two buttons to coincide with her speech.

He grabbed her shoulder and tried her roughly so that her back was now pressed against the cool wooden door that led to the broom closet. Pansy shrieked and groaned at the constant, smiling thinking she was getting her way.

Draco held one of her arms above her head, his other caged the sides of her soldiers. She wasn't a short girl, she nearly met him at height, and his stance gave him advantage. And in advance she seemed to enjoy it. Pansy leaned forwards and Draco took his free hand, and pushed her shoulder roughly into the wood; Pansy shrieked again.

"Enough Pansy" Draco's voice came out rough and harsh as he pried his hands off her and left her standing alone in the corridor.

-

Draco shuddered at remembering the cold morning. He merely shrugged his shoulder back at Pansy's remark about her perky posture.

"Suppose I would be happy too, getting all of your attention" she snickered at him from behind her perched up textbook.

"What are you on about this time Pans?" Theo chose the moment to cut in, walking over to the table with Blaise following suit.

"Granger is happy," Pansy simply stated in return.

"And that's a crime now?" Blaise's laughter was loud and clear as he met Draco's eyes questioningly.

"You should commit that crime Pans, you emitt death at the seams, happy might suit you" Theo joked back.

"Bugger off. It's just weird. She's been mopy for weeks, and now she's perky" Pansy sneered, nuding her head to gesture in Hermione's direction. Where, in fact, Hermione was engaged in s smiling conversation with Aurie, who met her level of joy.

"Awww, are you concerned for the little Gryffindor?" Theo joked again.

"Not concerned, infuriated maybe"

"Well she's been miserable all weekend, I can assure you that" Draco implanted into the conversation, hoping that would suffice for Pansy to drop the conversation about her.

Blaise came over to Draco's side and flicked him in the back of the head, making him mutter and "ow" before Blaise spoke.

"Hmmm, spending lots of time with Granger are we?" Blaise's voice was barely over a whisper. Not that it would have mattered: Pansy was in a conversion with Theo when she was pointing you the strange behaviors of Hermione, and Theo was joking that maybe she was Imperiused to be happy for once.

"Fuck off Blaise" Draco whispered back.

"Perhaps there are ulterior motives to Granger's happiness this morning. Or am I to believe she truly has been miserable all weekend?" Blaise continued on, not fucking off.

" I live with the bloody witch, you expect I don't see her at all! She's been reading the whole day away, that's pretty damn normal from Gryffindor's Princess if you ask me" Draco simply retorted back at him, hoping to end the conversion. He picked up his potions book and read back the instructions of the remedy to the bat-bogey-hex.

"Think of her as a princess, do we Draco?" Blessed laughed again, flicking him again in the back of the head.

Draco stared down the page and started renaming ingret aiden over and over.

Silver Fox-wing. Dragon Scales. Beetle Dung. he said over and over.

Silver Fox-wing. Dragon Scales. Beetle Dung. Silver Fox-wing. Dragon Scales. Beetle Dung. Silver Fox-wing. Dragon Scales. Beetle Dung.

He felt his head blurr with the numbing repetition.

Silver Fox-wing. Dragon Scales. Beetle Dung.

-".... Draco?" the voice hit him like a ton of bricks, sending a lasting pain behind his ears.

-".... Draco.... No..... not now" the voice went on.

It was the one he couldn't recognize. Soft and scared in its tone, and the most painful he could ever experience in his mind. Now? What was now? Draco thought.

-"..... Draco... stop it ... they'll think you're mad...." They were whispering their pleas in real time, as if they knew he had grabbed his forehead and hissed into the pain.

-".... Wake up...."

When Draco snapped back into reality he could feel the eyes on him, boring into him with concern and confusion. He had his hands outstretched in front of him, branching himself on the oak table for balance.

Draco could hear his own breathing. It came out of him in sharp pants that were uneven and ragged. It was indicative of someone in pain.

"Mate?" Theo asked, the concern in his voice burning in Draco's head as the sound echoed in his ears, punishing the pain that was already reverberating through his head. Too much sound. Too much pain.

Draco hissed at the intrusion in his head. Theo's voice cut through his brain and hit the pain that lingered from the unknown voice that had just occupied his consciousness.

"Profesor, I have him" Draco faintly registered Blaise grabbing him by the elbow and hauling him to his feet and out of the classroom. He didn;t hear Slughorn demanding that Blaise take him to the infirmary, or the whispers of the other students.

The voice still hit his senses in all directions. It flashed on pain and light in his mind, blurring his perception of reality.

The voice was real, in time at least. It requested that he wasn't alone, and told him to leave. Leave where exactly? His own head? It wasn't like he was asking to be haunted by these dreams.

But that was it.

Hermione's voice cut into his head. - Those aren't dreams Draco - He knew it the whole time, but the result of facing it meant a new hurdle in his path. In his mission. In his life. It was something wrong with him that he needed to fix. But it wasn't a dream.

The weight of it finally hit his shoulders, and he would be buried under its crush if he ignored it any longer. If he let himself be overtaken by screaming whispers everyone would know.

Draco agreed, whatever had just happened, he could at least agree with what Hermione had said.

That was definitely not a dream.


	13. Chapter 13: Jewels

6th Year, October 14th

"Draco what the hell?" Blaise whispered once they were out of earshot from the classroom.

Draco only mumbled, in response, his eyes still wide from pain.

"Granger doing this much to you?" he whispered even quieter than before.

"Not, Granger..." Draco managed to mumble out.

Draco felt the instant sense to punch Blaise out for his insinuation, but stopped himself when a flash of pain was sent down his legs, causing his knees to buckle beneath him. Blaise caught him on the side and Draco could his idly disguised smirk as he did so.

His head was searing. Any noise seemed to tick something in his head and send him over a new wave of pain. The voice was so loud, as if someone was actually whispering in his ear right next to him.

"Then what the hell?"

Draco could register that Blaise was holding him up by his arm, his grip was ironclad above his elbow. Almost his whole body weight was leaning into his side. It normally would have caused him a slight stinging uncomfortable annoyance, but now it was grounding him to reality as another wave of pain shot through his head.

Draco hissed through gritted teeth, causing Blaise to look at him concerned.

"Pomfrey or Dorm?" Blaise asked a sudden shock of sincerely drifting into his voice. Draco looked at him, astonished that he was giving him the choice, after he was sure Slughorn had insisted he be taken directly to the infirmary.

"Dorm-" he managed to rasp out, it was all he could muster.

The pain in his head caused his whole body to feel numb and disconnected. He felt like he was floating in reality, and he couldn't reach ground now matter how hard he tried. He tried to focus on Blaise's grip on his arm, but the more he concentrated, the more pain he felt behind his ears.

Draco knew that going to Pomfrey would incite Snape's appearance. Snape was aware of Draco's predicament with his dreams, but he had not let on that he thought they were more than just dreams. Not that Draco was particularly eager to admit that these were anything more than manifestos of his realities: at least until now.

Being brought to the infirmary, barely gripping to reality, would mean Snape would start to think otherwise, and likely turn him either home, away from his mission, or directly to St Mungoes: all of which Draco was not prepared to endure.

It would also alert the other teachers that something was happening, and if Draco knew anything, it was that whatever, or whoever, was happening, there was likely dark magic involved. If the other professors knew it would endanger his mission, endanger him. Hell they would probably throw him right in Azkaban: he thought.

but going to the dorm would mean Hermione would follow suit.

She had already seen his out-burst in class, and would go looking for him in the dorms, to study him: he thought. She always lingered around when something went wrong. Always.Always was around the corner when he stuttered, always there when he woke up screaming. She was everywhere at exactly the worst moments.

At least her presence wouldn't endanger the mission, not that she was any the wiser than the professors, at least she was fixated on her dissertation that whatever was happening in his dreams. She had never pestered about his meetings with Snape, not even a comment about why he had to take them, she just went with it. For someone who was so bright you'd think she had half her brain up her arse sometimes.

She was the only one aware of such knowledge. Except for all of the bloody potions class now: Draco thought to himself.

Blaise pulled him through the hallways to where his dorm was. Despite Draco never showing them the dorm, he had described the paint with which the door was concealed behind. The gradient protaras of Hogwarts castle he had ever seen, and Blaise found it quickly amongst the others in the corridor.

Blasie reached his hand for the frame, but Draco took his arm out to swat him away. Immediately leaning against the stone wall with the other for support at the shift in movement.

"--wards--" he muttered, Blaise nodded.

"If there are wards, should I send a teacher if you end up dead?" Blaise question, trying to laugh. Draco knew there was concern for his friend behind his tone, joking and teasing had always been Blaise's chosen form of cope.

"--no--" Draco felt Blaise's grip on his arm fall, and he reached his hand out so that his palm could flatten on the frame.

"Draco, dude, someone has to make sure you don't die in there" Blaised remained speaking in the same joking-concerned tone.

"Granger - she's the only other student allowed in the room --- the teachers---can't know--- never---" Draco's voice was barely above a whisper. Trying to keep the pain at bay meant limited speech, every words shot pain from his jaw to his ear and back to base of his skull. Fire blasting in his veins, like the burning at the spell's cast.

"You want me to get the girl who's driving you mad? The girl I'm fairly certain if you are left alone with you're gonna either kiss her or kill her?"

"Just- do- it"

"Alright alright"

The portrait opened under Draco's touch, and he stumbled in his steps. His hand still braced himself on the stone wall as he walked through.

"Don't die" he faintly heard Blaise hollar as he went through the wards.

Draco's breath was coming out of him in pants still, and his limbs felt numb and heavy with every step he took. He didn't make it to his door, instead he collapsed on the armchair closets to the door.

It was Hermione's.

The scent of Honey Soap filled his senses and he felt warm on the inside as his eyes closed and he fell asleep due to weakness.

***

When Draco woke up there was a red quilt draped over him.

"You're awake" Draco rolled his head over to the side. Hermione was curled up in the chair that was usually his. Her arms were tucked around her frame tightly her knees curled up inner chin, and she looked stoned shocked that he had woken up. she looked fragile: he thought.

"What? -- what's..." He started, his voice was hoarse, and it hurt to talk. Draco tried to sit up, looking around the room to find it empty. The curtains and the window seat were drawn shut, the only light illuminating the room was the candles that Hermione must have lit.

"Here" Hermione handed a cup of tea. He sat up enough to take the cup and sipt it. He tasted honey, the same way she always made it.

"Snape wants to see you in his office tonight" Hermione blurted out.

Her eyes were scanning him for physical injuries, she knew there were likely none. She had watched what happened in potions. Draco had been staring at his textbooks for a long time, then his breathing was ragged, and he started hissing in pain. He had slammed his hand on the table in an effort to not fall. Then Blaise had whisked him away.

Blaise returned not much later without Draco and pulled her aside, telling her to check on him. Just the look in Blaise's eyes was enough to worry her, and she had to will herself to stay in class for its whole duration.

When Hermione had gotten to the common room after Potions, Draco was asleep on her chair. She summoned her quilt, knowing his room was warded, and waited. She never left the chair beside him unless it was to make tea or close the curtains. The curtains she closed on arrival.

Professor Snape had arrived about an hour after she did. He took one look at Draco's slumped body, Draco's browser furrowed in pain, as if he was silently wincing. Snape excused her from her afternoon classes to monitor him, and said that the minute he woke up, Draco was expected in his office.

"I told Blaise not to get a teacher" Draco murmured into the cup. He was aware of Hermione's smirk beside him.

"Since when are your friends particularly good listeners?" she joked. Her happy meneer was gone. Any perky posture that Pansy had remarked on in the morning had dissipated and was replaced with the familiar face of worry that Hermione often sported in his presence.

"You've been asleep for hours" Hermione sat up and adjusted herself to be leaning against the armrest closest to him.

"I'm fine" Draco whispered, averting his eyes from her altogether.

"Would you stop saying that!" Hermione yelled, abruptly charging to her feet to loom over him. Anger and worry a complex presence on her face. "You were wincing in pain in the middle of a classroom! You can disguise it all you want- but that was not bloody normal! I know exactly what happened"

"And what would that be?" Draco cocked his reaction, tantalising her.

"You heard the voice, in your head you heard it again. And it's getting worse, isn't it?"

Draco hung his head. He let himself sip the tea. It was scalding hot against his throat, but he didn't care. If Hermione had been watching him sleep for hours then she had to have been brewing tea regularly for it to remain scalding hot. He wasn't sure how to process the information that she had been at his 'beds' and brewing tea for his eventual awakening.

"Just let me help you Draco"Her soothing voice faked his ears, and for a moment he wanted to tell her everything.

He'd be lying if he said she wasn't a calming presence. She was no longer in the hostel, and hadn't been for a while. And Draco felt warm in the common room with her. She wanted to help. She was the only one who had actually said that she was willing to help... with no strings attached. With Snape there was the fear of being found inadequate, but she was willing to help no with no prior knowledge of the situation.

Draco felt the pang under his ribs again.

But then again if she had been watching him, how had she avoided class? He had no intent on answering her question about the voices, and as much as he wanted to spill out everything just to keep her close to him, to keep himself warm he tainted her.

"Hermione Granger skipping classes is more impressive than whatever pity party you've planned to throw me" he stated finely.

Selfish. He told himself. Purely selfish reason for wanting her warm to stay in the room.If he was lucky she would leave at his sarcastic comment- take it as a blow to her ego. Then he would be alone again and he could try to ignore the longing in his head.

"I didn't skip"

"The fact that you know I've been asleep for hours tells otherwise" he continued to nagg. Fully aware that he was breaking the 'high road' code.

"Snape came by and excused me from class. Said you couldn't be alone, and then told me to make sure you went to him when you woke up... even if that meant levitating your body and pulling you down there" her voice was firm as she went over to his side and took a book from the stand.

Hermione turned to face him, book under her arm, curls wild around her face, and worried look that was fuming with residual anger from his avoidance of question.

"Get up, we're going" Hermione told, pulling the red and gold quilt from his lap and thrusting his school robe's in their place. Draco didn't even remember taking them off when he got into the dorm.

"We?" he asked, unsure as to why Snape would ask for Hermione along with himself.

"Yes. We. Snape asked me to come too."

Draco was too mentally exhausted to pester on. He slid his robe over his shoulders and followed her through the frame for the silent walk to the Dungeons.

The corridors were silent and Early dormant students. It wasn't until Draco looked through the column and saw the moonlight that he registered it was the middle of the night. The drawings had been hung in the common room, and he hadn't managed to check the clock before Hermione's insistence that they head to Snape's office.

He liked the night. The quiet darkness was an escape from the loud reality of the outside. The castle almost felt normal gain. He almost felt normal again in the nighttime.

Except she wasn't normal. Him wanting her was not normal. And Draco knew it.

Between the Amortntia fucking with his mind, and the whispers that stayed in the shadows of his consciousness. Draco Malfoy was decidedly not fine, whether he would verbally admit it or not.

He was so lost in his thoughts to midnight that he almost crashed into Hermione's back when she suddenly stopped at Snape's office door. He caught himself on the stonewall, one arm stretched out, and millimeters from her hair. He smelt her shampoo, and the warmth washed over him, calming his mind.

"Lilypad" Hermione muttered, and the door swung open.

"Mr Mafloy, Ms Granger, come in" Snape beckoned from within.

Draco stepped through the threshold first, leaving Hermione to saunter in behind him. When they reached the back of his office where Snape stood behind his desk, snape didn't even glance at Draco, instead looking directly at Hermione and addressing her first.

"He's stable?" he asked, his voice smooth.

"He can function if that's what you're asking. If you want to know mentally... he won't tell me" Hermione looked between Snape and the back of Draco's head as she responded.

"I am right here" Draco's comment went fully undressed y the both of them. 

"Very well. Ms Granger it has come to my attention that you and Mr Malfoy are behind on your reports..."

"Professor if I may... " Hermione tried to cut in, Draco suspected she was going to excuse their tardiness on Draco's well being, or lack there of recently.

"No objection! McGonnagal relies on the pair of you to ensure prefects are kept in line, and students are safe while on patrols.back to your dorm to finish them. I will send Mr Malfoy up shortly to also address the missing reporters" Snape said sharply.

From the corner of his eye, Draco watched Hermione take a sharp step backwards.Her head hangs low as if in shame. Hermione wasn't late on assignment. Admittedly Draco himself had also forgotten about their bi-weekly reports, something that he also didn't forget about often. 

But he was too wrapped up in his dreams, and her, to even realize they existed at the moment.

"Yes professor" Hermione responded sheepishly. Her footsteps echoed in the empty classroom as she left the room without question.

Draco cleared his throat to talk, but Snape spoke before he could say anything.

"You have two weeks to complete your plan." Snape said harshly.

"Professor, I haven't even got an object to proceed with, let alone the spell mastered". Draco responded, annoyed that his plan to use an Heirloom curse was being rushed, the object was the most important. Spell work was merely an afterthought.

He had indent to owl his mother, asking for a jem of her to use in his conquest. But his owls had been returned since day one of the year, and he doubted they would go through now. He was waiting until he could go to Hogsmede at Halloween to deliver his message to one of the Death Eaters that lurked at the three Broomsticks . He could get his mother the message through them, and have the gem delivered by owl from her.

Snape pulled a brown package from beneath his robes. PLacing it on the table he unraveled the brown parchment paper to reveal a fine silk and leather folder.

"I made a request to your Mother.." Snape drew his breath out "... it should work fine"

Draco untied the leather bound and the silk screen to reveal his mother's gold and emerald necklace. He had seen her wear it on several occasions at the manor. Usually for high profile events: balls, galas, even the occasional list form the minister for Magic. The cluster of gold and green would hang down in it's diamond shape at the base of her neck for hours.

Draco always thought it looked rather uncomfortable, and heavy to wear for such an extended period of time. Even when he was young he voiced his concern for his Mother's neck muscles, she would simply state that it was her mother's and as such it was a tradition she was nineteen to uphold.

Draco gaped at the necklace. He hadn't seen it in years. It had been since third year when his parents ahd last held an occasion worthy of such attire at the Manor.

"How did you?" Draco began to ask.

"You're mother is quite stubborn..." Snape started.

Draco's fists balled at his sides at Snape's interpretation of his mother.

".. she will do what she must to keep her family safe" Snape quickly refilled the silk and leather bounds on the necklace. He handed it to Draco in one swift movement.

"Off to your room" Snape commanded, Draco simply stood there bewildered.

Snape could get owls to his mother, yet he couldn't. Snape could facilitate his mission on behalf of him, but Draco was barred from communication and resources awarded to other death eater recruits. His only rescue was Snape, and that was on behalf of his Mother's request. His mother who didn't want him to receive the mark either way.

Furthermore, Draco was certain that tonight's importu meeting with his Head of House was pertaining to his outburst in class earlier.

"Professors, about potions class" Draco beganto asked, confused as to why this meeting was ensured to be tonight, fated even.

"I am aware of your outburst Malfoy" Snape simply repeated back,

"I was under the impression that this meeting would be about that?" he questioned back, tucking the leather bound necklace under his arm, and standing tall.

"You and Miss Granger seem to have that research under control" Snape moved away from the table and took his bookcase. He was clearly avoiding the conversational topic Draco was approaching.

For the third time that night Draco was blinded by someone's comment. The first was Hermione's about his dreams, then Snape's about his mother, and now Snape's about his knowledge of him and Hermione's research into his family line, and the possible connection it had with his dreams.

Snape all but confirmed the two had a linkage by suggesting that Hermione's research was going to help him.

"How?" Draco asked, under his breath, hoping Snape wouldn't catch it. He did.

"Those book's in your dorm haven't been in the Library for years. If you mean to exploit her brain, do it wisely, she'll catch on very easily of you are not careful." Snape placed another book down on the table and slid it forwards.

Draco read the title: -A Complete History of Family Magic: Obscruis', Squibs, and Magical Signatures-

He gaped at the title. It was everything Hermione had proposed, every theory she had adapted, all compiled in one book.

"Professor if you knew---" Draco started to ask why if Snape had known about the research why had he allowed Hermione and him to continue researching such a topic. Even though Draco had told him he had intended to lead Hermione into a trap to use her brain. Snape was hinting that he knew where they would end up. And, if that was the case, why not just tell him outright?

The words were lost on his tongue. The jumble of thought caused him to lose his train and not make out any thoughts,

"They are watching Draco, and this is your mission. I will only help when explicitly asked, then it is at your discretion how I help. I am here on behalf of your mother, I swore to protect you. But they are always watching." Snape said coldly, waving him away with his hands, gesturing towards the door "... always watching".

Draco wanted to ask more. But he knew what his professor was implying. It was no secret that Voldemort kept many Legilimsn in his ranks, Snape rumoured to be one of them. Any question Draco had, Snape likely already knew. Anything that they said to each other verbally could bewitched by one of Voldemort's watch dogs, and reported, getting them both in trouble.

Right as Draco's hand reached for the brass door knob he heard Snape speak again. Directly tooh i'm from across the hall.

"There are things much more powerful that voldemort out there Draco, and they are watching too"

***

Draco withheld his questions about Snape's remark as he left the room. Instead they swirled on his head on his way back to the door. Where, overtly, Hermione would berate him with a new set of questions, both about Snape, and the new book and Package tucked in his arm.

"There are things much more powerful than Voldemort you there Draco, and they are watching too"

Snape's words rang out in Draco's ears. More Powerful than Voldemore?

Being caught saying that would earn Snape punishment enough, let alone warning a recruit with it. Did Vodemort have a rising competitor? Was there another Dark wizard amazon enough power and followers to overtake the Dark Lord?

How are they watching? Legilims? Occlumens? Pensive properties? The statement was so open ended that Draco was left with more questions than his ability to head Snape's warning could compete with.

Snape and discreetly noted that Draco could ask him for help. His asaitcne as a resource didn't have to come solely from his mother's request. But Snake had hidden a warning in that offer too, should Draco take his offer, then it would be on him. Draco would bear the burden that he received help on what was supposed to be a solo assignment directly from the Dark Lord.

Draco braced himself for Hermione's questions the minute he stopped though the Hogwarts painting.

Instead of rushing into a room of chaotic questions and frenzied scribbles, Draco felt himself smile under his breath at the sight in front of him.

Hermione was asleep, back on 'her' armchair. Her body was curled up tightly in the possession he now addicted to her worried posture. Her curls were amess behind her head and her brows furrowed in her sleep with concentration.

She had a book opening her lap, evidence that she hadn't meant to fall asleep. Draco craned his head to see the clock. It read 4 a.m. If she truly had been waiting for him to wake up since he had passed out after Potions class, she was liley sleep deprived.

He chuckled lightly as she squirmed in her large chair, and wrapped her arms around herself, giving herself a bear-hug in her sleep.

He dropped the book and package in his room and went back to the common area. He wanted to wake her up and force her into her own room so that he could think and research without waking her up. Draco knew better than that though, the minute he made any suggestion that he wasn't going to sleep himself, she would be forcing her eyes open to look at the book with him.

Instead he picked up the red and gold quilt that she had previously slewn over his sleeping frame, and layed it overtop hers.

It fell right to offer her the ground with a slight thump. Draco silently scowled, worried that the minute noise would wake his roommate.The way she was curled up didn't allow for the blanket to easily be draped over her, at least not without help.

Draco signed. Having a barrier between her frame, and any sudden movement he might accidentally break when researching would surely aid in keeping her in a state of slumber.

He picked up the quilt and once against draped it over her curled up frame. This time tucking the corners around her hips and shoulder.

As his fingers grazed an exposed bit of skin on her hip, he flexed his hand abc at the warm tingles that erupted in his palm.

He was suddenly very aware that her scent was enveloping him once more. The warm and soft familiarity other Shampoo penetrated his nose, as one of her curls brushed his cheek.

He signed into her hair as the familiar scent washed over him. He had resigned himself to knowing it would never go away. Despite Blaise' tedious teasing that he smelt Hermione Granger's hair in the Amortentia, Draco welcomed it with a strange sense of comfort. If not only to keep some of his own internal dread at bay.

Without warning, he let his tingling finger travel to the cult that has brushed his cheek. It was soft and tight beneath his fingers, and erupted another wave of neurotic spasms in his plan as he twirled it lightly around this thumb.

Dammit. He thought to himself.

Even in her slumber, hours after she had washed her hair from the morning, her scent was intoxicating and addicting. And he wanted to be closer to it. Initially avoidance had been his strategery. But as time and awareness had gone on, he found it less suffocating the longer he was closer to her, or in her eternal presence.

He hadn't voiced that to Blaise, the man would never let him forget it. The fact that Draco was content to sit next to her and let himself smell her intoxicating scent was drawing him increasingly crazy and somber.

He didn't like it one bit. That's what he told himself. His conscience thought didn't like it one bit.

Hus unconscious though was another story. It craved her scent. Longed for her presence even. And Drac would only let himself give in when he was too weak to fight it.

Today classified just as that. His head throbbed with immense left over pain, and his mind was a swirling whirlpool of unanswered questions. He wanted her calmness to wash over him.

Draco knelt behind her. His finger never slipped from her curly tendril as he pulled the book from her chair and brought it into his own lap.

He sat like that until morning.

Her book outstretched in front of him as he read it.

With Hermione Granger wrapped around his finger.

In more ways than one.


	14. Chapter 14:The Owlrey

6th Year, October 28th

The two weeks that followed Draco's abrupt ~dream~ in Potions class went by in a frenzy. He was able to go to classes without hearing anything. But his nights were still plagued with the whispers.

It was a regularly occurring event that the voice he couldn't recognize would wake him up. He'd be thrashing and screaming from pain. Every Time he left his warded bedroom he found Hermione in the common area.

She was always in one of three places: the curled up in the window seat and counting the stars; passed out asleep in an armchair with a book in her lap; or making tea to distract her from her own nighttime terrors. Draco had a routine that mirrored hers. Though he admitted that his routine was affected by her occurrences.

If Hermione was watching the stars we could make tea and join her in the window seat. He woulndt say anything. Just would thrust the scalding liquid in her hands, and sit opposite her on the cushions. 

He remembered how she made tea: three spoonfuls of honey, and it became his regular one as well. When they sat in the window they didn't speak to each other, just let themselves get lost in the night sky.

If Hermione was asleep on the couch he would remove the book from her lap and wrap the quilt that had remained a permanent fixture on the armchair around her. The common rooms were growing increasingly cold as the summer turned into fall. Breezes would converge in the hallways, and Draco felt the door grew intensely cold at night. After that he would usually just read in the armchair next to her: either her book that he had discarded from her lap, or one of the old textbooks on the bookcase.

And if Hermione was making tea in the kitchen she always brewed enough hot water for too many cups. He even found that the few days he stayed swallowed up in his room after he had awoken in a sweat, when he went out in the morning, the kettle had cooled water in it. 

There was always just enough for a cup of tea, and he very quickly realized that whenever Hermione made tea, she was making enough for him too, just in case.

Draco's realization that her presence was calming didn't shock him as much as it would have if you told him over the summer. Had someone told Draco Malfoy in July that being in Hermione Granger vancity would cause his brain to stop swirling in disparity, he would have punched them out without a second thought.

Instead of violently ignoring the testimony, or telling himself that the Amortentia was lying to him, he resigned himself to the facts that he couldn't dispute. She was a warm presence in the cold castle. Her scent of Honey and Soap stopped his jittering knees, and made him forget about everything else.

When she was next to him that was all he could think about. She was a nuisance in his head that he decided to accept.

Draco knew he was too weak from his nights to fight her presence, or the thoughts that she brought along with her presence. If he fought her, he wouldn't be able to fight anything else. She didn't cause pain, and everything else did. That's What he told himself.

If was going to let one thing slip past his reserve, it was going to be the one that didn't make his head throb, or the one that made his skin burn. It would be the one that created a sense of calm in his head.

And infortnely for Draco Malfoy, the one thing was the smell of Hermione Granger's hair.

So by association, he had to endure her.

Draco could feel his reserve growing weaker and weaker as the nighttime terrors continued through the two week following his outburst in potions. He was losing his ability to sleep rapidly, instead favouring reading in the dim dorm to avoid the horrors and pain that closing his eyes brought him.

Hermione had noticed it too, unfortunately for him. He told himself that was why she always brewed extra tea, and told him when she was leaving the dorm.

She didn't want to startle him, or make him feel any weaker and out of control that she presumed he felt.

She was treating him like a china doll. And he hated it.

On wednesday evening Draco was so combusted on the inside from his dream that his feet subconsciously carried him to her door when he didn't find her in the common room.

He had told himself too many times before that she wasn't already out of bed he wasn't going to ask for her company. His only reverse left around her was not letting her know that she had become a welcomed presence.

But the searing pain behind his eyes didn't subside when he awak from his slumber in a tangled mess of sheets and clothing. His limbs felt like numbing lead, and his whole body felt like it had undergone a series of torturous curses. He wanted to go outside. He wanted to feel the cold air wisp against his skin and cool him down.

The last time he had gone on a walk in the dead of night it had been to escape her suffocating scent. This time he wanted it beside him, calming him in the cold autumn breeze.

But she hadn't left her bedroom that night, nor had she accidentally fallen asleep in a pile of books and parchment on the armchairs. She was out of reach.

Draco raised his hand to knock on the door, his judgment swooping at him seconds before he balled fist and made contact with the cedar weed. Indeats aming his hand to flatten against the doorframe and sighing.

Weak.

He thought. But he couldn't disclose why he was eask. Weak for waiting outside of Granger's door, or weak for not being able to control himself.

He wanted to burst through it, and yell his frustrations out. At the same time I wanted to knock and ask her to go on the walk with him.

His hand, still resting on the doorframe to Hermione's bedroom, balled into a fist once more. Harsh enough that he could feel the stinging of his fingernails penetrate his skin. A new wave of pain crossed up his spine, sending coursing pulses in his head.

Angy and weak .He banged his fist against the doorframe.

His eyes shot from his head, instantly regretting his actions. Any hope of slipping away unnoticed and trying to forget his lapse of standing outside of Granger's door. Any hope of not letting her know that he was standing outside her door, longing to be in her claiming space. 

Any hope that he could ignore the feelings bubbling in his chest. It all went out the window the second his fist collided with the dark wood and the sound reverberated through the dorm.

Draco only had time to remove his fist from the door frame before Hermione was swinging it open. A mixture of terror and worry was plastered across her simple features. Draco likes the way her nose was scrunched up, trying to solve the puzzle.

"Draco?" There wasn't a hint of exhcgatern in her voice, revealing to him that she hadn't been blissfully aware in her sleep. She was awake inside her own room.

"I-" He started. There were no words on his tongue. No insults or excuses. He was completely bewildered by her presence in front of him, he hadn't planned for this.

The second the door to her room had open Draco had been enveloped in the scent of sweet tangy honey soap. Filling his senses with warmth and the softness of pillows. The pain in head intanly fled to some decree, the warmth overtaking the pain in beautiful bliss.

His eyes raked over her fram carefully and utterly slowly. Taking in every inch of hr. She was cold in her sleeping shirt, several sizes too big for her.. Draco internally wondered if it was Weasel's. She had her silk sleeping shorts on, and his eyes lingered too long on her exposed thighs.

"Is everything alright?" Hermione asked, seemingly trying to hide her frame behind the inwards swung door upon seeing his eyes follow her frame.

"I--" he faltered on his first words, deciding that lying wouldn't get him out of this, she was far too clever to not notice how his fingers twitched at his sides "I'm going on a walk, and you demanded that when I do, you come along"

"I don't know if 'demanded' is the right word" she interjected once he was fully finished. her tone was sharp and witty, he Draco wondered how she should be so calm after he had just punched her doorframe - and she had stepped out to him looking like he could hurt her. 

Draco had shoved his hands into his pockets in an attempt to hide his nervous posture from her.

"Well it wasn't exactly bloody nice , you were not really asking if I recall, more telling me I had to bring you along" he retorted under his breath, she heard him and smirked, trying to stifle a laugh. 

"Are you coming or not?" he asked roughly, avoiding her gaze, instead fixating on the bookcase to his right.

"I'll get dressed, gimme a minute" she muttered, closing the door exactly in his face with a gentle slam.

Draco brought his hand up from its position in his pocket to take his fingers through his tousled hair. He muttered curses under his breath for being discovered by her outside of her door. Then muttered some more for not even trying to relay a cover story.

When Hermione emerged from her room she had bundled herself up in layers of jumpers and scarves. She looked up at him questioningly, he was still wearing his ld quidditch jumper and a simple pair of drawstring grey joggers. Where Hermione looked like she was going to fight a mountain troll in the Alps, Draco looked like he was going to sit in the library during exams.

"You're going to free--" Hermione started before Draco interjected.

"Accio winter robes and scarf" he pointed his want to his door. His robes and scarf flew through his wards and into his arms.

"What was that Granger?" he joked, smirking at her from behind his hooded eyes.

"Oh bugger off"she sneered, burying her face in her scarf that was tightly knit around her neck.

The way her scarf cut off her mane of curls forced Draco to hide a giggle. The puffiness was intensively stopped by her tight scarf on her neck, making her bushy mane look even busser, and letting few curls frame her face like chocolate swirls of coffee against her milky skin.

The pang under his chest mixed with the feeling of shards in head that were slowly returning from their initial dispersal.

He wanted to get outside and have the cool wind kiss his skin and distract him from the sting in his eyes.

Draco shrugged forwards, not remarking anything else in her direction. Instead he headed for the arched doorway to the end of the common room.

"Come on" he huffed, she followed closely behind after a moment of hesitation.

Hermione didn't speak in their walk through the corridors. Draco made no attempts to start a conversation either, instead allowing his relief to wash over him. Hermione had caught up to his long strides and was walking right beside him.

Draco was very aware that there was only a few inches between his arm and hers, and any large gust of wind causing a shift in their postures, or brief stint of clumsiness on either of their parts would have their arms brushing. 

He started to make a greater distance between them, but she had taken it as a directional change and followed suit.

Still silent beside him he saw her rubbing her hands together before shoving them in the pocket of her robes. He held a similar posture. Scarf wrapped firmly across his neck, shielding his upper collarbones and lower chin from the brisk hair, Hands shoved in pocked for wartm, and awkwardness, and even paces, feet in line with every step they took.

When the brisk cold winds brushed through Draco's face he felt the sudden desperation from the pain from his curled joints and knotted muscles. The cold air offered a refuge of sorts for his pain. The burning fire that would throb in his veins would subside under the cold night air.

He craved the feeling, almost as much as he craved the softness of Hermione's presence.

He heard her humm under his breath, and it was like music in his ears.

Draco wanted nothing more than to despise, to loathe, to completely hate the little brunette at his side. But he couldn't. It was all the damn Amortentia's fault.

"You feel better?" Draco felt the rush of warmth as she judged his side. Even between her layers sof jumper and his thick winter robes, her touch ignited a shudder on his skin.

"What makes you seem like this was for me?" he asked coyly.

"Oh and I'm suppose to assume you'd be doing something nice for me-"

Draco didn't interject, like her pause is speech had initiated he might have.

He stopped walking, near the sparkling Black Lake. The waters were rowdy in the wispy winds, and the shores were rumbling with shallow waves on it's edges. It was so tumultuous, yet beautiful. Draco thought it was a rather pretty sight, despite it's horrendous crashing against the grass, the water was free. Free from bounds and binds. Free to move directions with the winds, and free at their own accords.

Free in every sense that he wasn't.

"Besides, you punched a wall... that's rather indicative of someone who needs an escape. So is it working?" Hermion'es continues to run in his ears.

"I punch walls Granger" he smirked, still letting his eyes fall onto the tumbling waves.

"Not in the common room you don't.. You haven't the whole time you've been here, at least to my knowledge " Hermione moved from his side slowly and cautiously. The same level of cautions she had taken in all her daily activities the past two weeks. The caution that she spared him, and the worry that her movements would injure him. 

Hermione was unbeknownst to the fact that Draco was completely uninhibited in her presence, and her caution was what actually put him on edge. He didn't want her pity, he just wanted her.

Draco pondered shooting back a retort about her being a know it all, or asking how she could know that he wasn't punching through the walls of his warded bedroom? He stopped himself every time his lips opened, daring him to speak.

From his side she transferred in front of him. Still over a foot away, he could feel her warm breath on his skin as she breathed out simple sight onto the crisp air. 

Her scent, mixing him with rushing waters almost made Draco forget about everything. Forget about war and his mission, and forget about the fear that ros ein him wherever he closed his eyes and heard the screaming whispers in the back of his head. He was finally at peace, and he wanted to stay that way.

"Draco, are you okay?" Hermione asked, nuding her head forwards to try and avert his gaze from the Black Lake.

"Define okay?" he breathed, laughing into the cold air as it went hissing against his lips and cracking them.

"They are worse, aren't they?"

Draco knew exactly what she was referring too.

"Draco .. tell me.. If they are... it might mean something else, something we ... haven't though of yet-" This time Draco did cut her off, her teeth were chattering, making her speech broken up.

"You already know that they mean somethig"

Draco felt Hermione edge closer to home, closing the foot's gap between them so that her body heat was positively radiating off her. He felt so cold compared to her.

"Is it always the same voice?"

"Not always. But that's the only voice I can't recognize", Hermione latched onto every word he said.

Hermione diverted their attention to the book that Snape had given to Draco. Albeit very knowledge-filled. All it had really done was solidify that the dreams that Draco was having meant something. Until the moment Hermione showed him the paragraph in the textbook Draco had denied it. Not to himself, he knew that they had to be something, mainly to her.

Draco had amused Hermione's mind games by letting her prod him with questions.

"I was looking in Snape's book-"

"Granger be honest" he interrupted, knowing full well she was knee deep in it the second he told her when she woke uo the following morning from their ordeal.

"Alright I've read it three times, cover to back, but that's not the point here..." Draco smirked at her annoyance "... I mean, I think your dreams are coming from someone, like directly, I know you said you didn't believe that... but ... but its too strange and persistent"

"You think sometime is actually being tortured, and they want me to save them?" Draco finally tore his gaze from the thrashing waters and landed them suqour into Hermione's wide hazel eyes.

She wasn't as cautious and hesitant as she had been, now sneezing that he had calmed down in the outside air. It kissed both their cheeks coly as another drift warded off the rushing waters. Draco just stared. 

Hermione had gotten incredibly close, less than a foot. Her scent was in everything and created a stab if needed in his chest. Need for what? To hold? To be warm? To be calm? Draco didn't place it. Underneath all his robes, he assumed that his need was to be warm against the bitter changing airs.

"You don't?" she asked, steadying her gaze right at his. He conceded under her gaze.

"I do, they know my name, they ask for help, and they say they can't tell me... it's so bloody secretive and it feels so real, like I could touch them... or say something back" he stalled his last words.

Touch.

Touch was what he wanted. To feel warmth against cold. Scared against security. Soft against hard. He wanted touch. He wanted a touch from her and he knew in that moment that he had gone utterly and completely mad.

Subconsciously Draco leaned his body forwards, every inch taking in a new realm of softness in his space. His confession had softened her features, and how her hard and heritage face was soft and scared... and hopeful. 

Yes, that was the other thing blatantly portrayed on her face. Hope.

From under his coat Draco took gentle hands and brushed a curl from her shoulder, sighing ever so softly that Hermione couldn't hear against the water's noise.

Hermione didn't flinch away, a prospective Draco very well knew was likely to happen when he acted in his impulse to touch her. Touch her anyway he could. That damn Amortentia: he thought to himself.

Hermione took a slow step backwards from him, and her soft curl fell from his lingering hand. Her face was still kind and worried and hopeful, but Draco's had turned to a state of panic as realization of his actions had set in.

He touched her.

He touched her hair. And she was awake. All those small touches he stole when she fell asleep in the common room. A finger twistin ga curl, her hand grazing her side when he fln ga blanket over her fram, or his hand on her wrist when they had aries in their first weeks. Those had been unknown for her part, and a selfish secret to him.

All of them, forgotten in the dark of midnight, much like this walk would be.

But this felt more real. Still in the dead of night, they were taken by bliss, and Hermione didn't flinch when he reached for her.

"C'mon... It's freezing" she sighed, burying her head in the Gryffindor scarf that was clad around her neck.

Draco followed in silence back to the castle. Allowing a fre of wisps of cold air to breeze by his face without cowering it into his scarf in the manner that Hermione was.

she didn't flinch: he though to himself, repeating the mantra over and over in his head.

As they reared the portart's opening Draco's mind a mixture of emotions and thought. The prospects of sleeping again felt strenuous on his body, and he knew the minute his eyes closed the screams would return.

Everything was clouding his judgement. Fear, Weakness, Uncertainty. And Longing.

Longing for Touch.

***

Come Friday evening Draco had everything prepared. Two Weeks after Snape had given him his Mother's family jewels Draco had produced a strong enough Heirloom Curse that he thought would be worthy of killing the great Albus Dumbledore.

Draco had successfully completed the Heirloom Cure after his walk with Hermione Granger. Fighting sleep and the urge to barge into her room and roughly demand that she sleep in the common room armchairs to be close to her, Draco fueled his emotions into casting the Charm into the emerald and gold jewelry. It glowed its characteristic silver sprites when he had finished the spiral of his wand. Its silver emittance made clear to him that he had worked in his favour.

Very carefully he had placed the jewels back in their silk wrappings - silk to ensure the curse was locked inside and couldn't escape- and lingered in the common room until morning.

Begging only Wednesday at that point. Draco ahd to figure out the kinks in his plans. Having the most difficult part down, the cure and object itself, Draco was keen on not having any other students involved in his scheme. His mission was his own. Not his Mother'sn not Snapes, and certainly not some other Slytherin's.

The rest of the week he ignored Hermione's incessant questions which followed his confession that he thought the dreams were in fact more than that. Instead he poured what little energy he could muster from the decayin effects of casting the spell, and the little sleep her awarded himself.

Draco wrote a small parchment letter addressed to Dumblore. Signed as if it was coming from the Manor, in his mother's name, Draco hoped that a simple, thick pack could prve incosipsuous enough that Dumdbldore would not second guess before opening the package.

He planned it meticulously. Down to the hours ticking clocks. The same precision he and enforced in his Slytherin friends when planning the staged attack on Hermione to get him the Senior Prefect position.

Saturday was his Target. He would get up before the sun rose, in order to not cause suspicions to Hermione as to why he was leaving the common room. The past three weeks Draco spent his whole weekend cooped up in the common room. And besides for occasional visitors with Potter and Weasel, so had Hermione. She was too enthralled in her books and research in him to really even care. But she would care if she left.

So on Saturday he would leave - 4:45 to be exact.

He'd make his way to the lowry on the other side of the castle. It would get him there approximately 5:00 sharp.

He would attach his parcel to his olderly barn owl, alon with the letter at 5:15.

Early, but not after Seven. Owls that arrived after 7 would imply a short morning travel. The ones which would arrive before six in the am would imply night travel. Over a longer distance, exactly what Draco needed for the package to be coming from Malfoy Manor.

Draco would wait 30 minutes for his owl to return empty handed, ensuring the job was complete.

If all went to plan, he would be back in the dorm by 6:00 am even, and Granger would be blissfully asleep, or blissfully unaware of he had left. Aside from her midnight hardships, Granger found it possible to sleep in the early hours of the morning, and living with the witch proved an easy routine was ekpt, and he knew precisely when she would stir.

***

Saturday came full force on Draco. He never even attempted slumber Friday evening. Knowing well enough that even if his sleep was marginally less horror filled, he would still be burning and weak in the early hours.

Foregoing any attempt at such unconscious divinity. Draco brewed tea at one a.m. The caffeinated kind that Hermione preferred to brew the nights that she intended to stay up late studying It was minty, and despite it being a scalding temperature, the characteristic tingling of mint streamed down his throat on impact.

Draco counted his lucky stars, and thanked every deity he could remember when Hermione wasn't awake at 4:30. That was when he emerged from his room, in his thick winter robes in order to conceal the think package underneath them.

Draco doubted any students would be up and meandering at the crack of dawn on a Saturday morning. But his suspicions were mostly within the activities of the teachers. With the presence of dementors on the outside of the grounds, and the heightened fear of impending war, Draco had found that professors lurked in corridors at odd hours.

Merlin forbade him to run into McGonagall in cat form on his way to the owlery.

He watched the clock tick by agonizingly slow. Every tick of the second hand seems to linger for an entire minute. Within there, every creak of floorboards or the sound of rustling winds, he worried that Granger would awake and question why he was dressed and leaving at the ungodly hour.

4:45.

The millisecond that the clock ticked at four-forty-five draco was on his heels walking through the portrait's arch, and gingerly closing the doors to ensure no sounds would wake his sleeping roommate. Finding success, he started walking, sifting through the halls, rounding every corner with darting eyes, hoping he wouldn't meet those of a teacher.

The cold autumn air kissed his features coyly, waking him fully from any deprivation he was feeling. The air was thick, and deary. As if the universe could sense his mission was coming to it's close, and the gods above decide to inflict his internal mood on the world around him.

Thick air. Cold winds. Bleak skies. Yes, quite the recipe for a dreary, and brooding day.

Draco thought it was fitting, in the ironic sense. He knew the mission would enact a sense of pride in his father, his mother not so much. But this moment was supposed to be his shining moment. His indoctrination into the enclave of the Dark Lord's inner circle. A golden moment, that was being shadowed by the dark shoes both in the outside world, and inside of him.

It was supposed to be his shining moment, but Draco felt as though he had entered a black hole where only doom and darkness awaited him for enterinities to come.

When Draco's pace finally led him to the owlery on the west end of the third floor corridor he bedan ascending the spiral stairs that would lead him to the literal poop-infected owl post. Draco was certain the owlery hadn't been cleaned since he had arrived at Hogwarts in first year. It never smelled, thanks to Flitwick's charmwork, but the ground was sodd in owl feces and fallen feathers.

He checked the clock in the far corner of the owlery.

5:01. Almost perfect, Draco smirked to himself.

Draco plucked his hand from under his robes, allowing the package to balance between his left arm and his hip. He brought his right hand upt to his face and blew a whistle in 3 separate huffs with his fingers between his lips.

After retreating his hand, Draco extended his right arm out straight, awaiting his Owl's arrival.

In from the east window of the open tower flew the dark feathered barn owl. It was the same olw his Mother had proudly given him on platform nine and three-quarters on his first ride to Hogwarts. Draco had proudly named him Saturn. Saturn wasn't as spirtley as he once was, he took longer time on harder journey's and Draco often found that his mail had several bumps in it.

Saturn perched himself in Draco's extended arm, giving his master a short "hoot" a few minutes later.

Draco carefully attacked the letter to Saturn's ankle and retrieved the parcel from underneath his robes.

"Saturn, to Albus Dumbledore, East Wing Office of Hogwarts' ' The elderly owl hooted softly in agreeance. Draco looked at the clock again.

5:15.

He gave his arm a gentle nudge and Sarurn kept from his attachment of Draco's robes and took flight from the East window.

Draco watched as his beloved owl's darkened wing's extended to take full flight and glide in the cold morning winds.

Draco let out a guttural sigh he didn't know he had been holding in the duration of his walk from the dormitory.

It was done. It was all done. By mornings full brightness Dumbledore would be cursed, and he would be leaving this castle for the Manor at Snape's side to retrieve the Death Eaters who would follow through Borgin and Burkes Vanishing Cabinet and into the castle.

It would all be over.

Draco sighed again. This time in utter confusion. It was over. He should be relieved, happy, ecstatic even. In less than a week Voldemort would summon him to take the mark. He would be avenging his Father and the Malfoy name. Installing himself as a part of the Dark Lords ranks, furthermore, taking post in the inner Circle as the Death Eater who killed the great Albus Dumbledore.

But his Mother's face swam in his vision. Blurry. He thought about the relief that could wash over him in that moment. 

Suddenly there was a loss in his chest. The loss of his Mother's favouritism, and pride. Once he took the Mark he could protect her, but he would have killed any of the hope she had for him the moment he did so.

He was the last family that Narcissa Black-Malfoy had left without the mark. The last person who could leave with her if anything happened. And the second he released his barn owl into the sky, that had vanished.

There was no relief in Draco's head. His mother was out of his reach to reason with. And the whispers would return until he could figure out their sauce and reason. Once he had left the castle, Hermione's research would be void. She would likely be killed- being Potter's friend- and Draco would be left a shell of man.

A disappointment to his mother, in pain for enetrianly from the whispers, and ranking in the Dark Lord's inner Circle.

He would be lost in a place that he was supposed to be found in.

Draco looked up at the clock with a crossed expression.

5:20.

He knew if Saturn returned within the half hour that his attempt would be a failure. Draco had always presumed Dumbledoe to have wards and guardians over his mail. He vocalized the concern to Snape, who had vouched to say that Dumbldore was as old as he was free-spirited. 

Upon Draco's questioning of the bizarre recallment, Snape clarified saying that Dumbldore did not magically guard or screen his mail.

Draco watched the clock still. 5:25. 5:30.

He was growing impatient. Not knowing if he was successful. Nt knowing if this was the moment his life became void of any hope forever. He willed himself to stay in the owlery, a small truckle of desire for the barn owl to come rushing back in, the package still tightened around it's ankle.

At 5:35 Saturn blew into the owlery, knocking Draco away from his state of thoughts.

Draco let out another guttural sigh. He didn;t know if it was relief or anger. It just happened and he let it.

Saturn perched himself on the nearest exposed and unoccupied stone column, giving a weak 'hoot' to Draco. Draco ruffled the dark owl feathers and unraveled the package from its ankles.

Concealing the parcel under his winter robes again, Draco shook his owl into the early morning skies and turned on his heel to walk back to the dormitory.

Draco's mind was a frenzy on his way back to the common room. He knew he took longer than anticipated, longer than his detailed plan had margined for. If he had to guess, he would say he walked so slowly that it was neary 6:20 when he reached the large portari of Hogwarts which concealed the Senior Prefects dormitories.

Throwing it open with a degree of pent of rage, draco stalked inside. One heavy footsape after another, his robes billowing behind him, and the finely packaged parcel still concealed underneath the dark fabric his winder robes. He hoped any noticeable creases or lumps would be concealed by the pitch black material.

Draco feared that Hermione had awakened by now. As he scanned the room, he noticed he was right.

Hermione was sitting upright in the armchair. A cup of steaming tea in one hand, and a book in the other. A single piece of parchment lay in her lap, and Draco assumed it was the research they had been doing. Leave it to Hermione Granger to wake up at the crack of sunlight to commence voluntary research on her school-age enemy.

Draco cleared his through gruffly to alert her of his entrance. He assumed that trying to discreetly dispose of the package in his room, or pretend that he wasn't just entering the room would likely not fly by her eyes. He would obviously have to cross her path to get to his own room. There was no way around that.

"You're up early" she said shocked as she peaked her eyes up from the book " good though, I want to show you something"

Draco huffed. The complex mixture of emotions and thoughts still swirling tempestuously in his mind. He worried that one thing would push him over the edge and he'd hear the screaming in his ears again, or he'd try and touch her again to relieve some of the burning beneath his skin.

Hermione rose from her seat and went over to him. When she crooked her head to the side, Draco trailed her eyes right to the lump underneath his cloak. His package.

Before Draco could try and shift to conceal it from her, Hermioen spoke.

"What's that?-"

"A parcel" Draco responded too quickly, interjecting her question.

"Oh, it's really early, that's strange. Who's it from?" Draco knew Hermione would sooner rip the package from his hands than be obedient in accepting a novel or void response. She made a move for it too, reaching out to grab it from him.

"It's from my mother" Liar, he banned his body away to hold the package tighter to him "Snape told me to expect it. It's a letter from my Father, and a few other letters from family" the lies speed out of him with ease. Technically the letter was from his mother, or at least that's what Draco's forged signature said.

At his words Hermione averted her gaze back to him, and stepped back. She look at him, and had to conceal a small smile. His hair was tousled from running his fingers through it in the owlery, and his deep black winter robes a startling contrast to his pale features. It made him look dangerous.

"Oh okay. Well I need you to look over something...."

"Not now Granger'' Draco snapped back at her. The overflow of thoughts seeping anger into his tone as he looked down at her small frame, which was positioned nearly the same distance from him as it had been by the rushing Balck Lake earlier in the week.

"Why not now, you're clearly awake" she met his tone of force and he heard her mumble under her breath "and in a cheery mood".

"C'mon I don't need to hear how glorious your little Gryffindor brain is so early in the morning" He scoffed, brushing past her and heading for his room. Not caring if the package was concealed anymore, Draco let his hands bring it out from underneath his robes, holding it freely with his left hand out in the open air.

"But-" Hermione started to protest but Draco cut her off.

"Enough Granger" she continued walking until he felt small fingers wrap around his waist and aggressively turn him around.

She was standing still a foot behind him. Her face annoyed and aggressive as she looked into his eyes, forcing him to stay.

"Would you cut it out Granger, I don't need to hear how perfect your new little theory is. Just tell me later, I'm sure you're right anyways--" He tried to run away, but Hermione grabbed his wrist. The pang in his chest. The feel of her small fingers wrapped so tightly around his arms it nearly hurt.

Touch.

The feelings of longing enveloped him at the same time her sweet scent overhauled his nose.

"Draco that's just it" she started, forcing him to fully face her with a shark snap of her arm. Draco looked at her bewildered. Both by her words, and by the sheer strength she had mustered to turn his entire frame to face hers.

"That's just what Granger?" Her scent was stronger than before. He guessed she had just returned from a shower and the smell of honey Soap was french in her hair and on her milky skin. "You're theory is probably bloody fine, let me go"

Her next words hit him like a brick wall. The conflict in his eyes softened slightly at her words when he admitted something she never thought she would say, let alone something she would ever have to see. Hermione Granger the Brightest Witch of her age indeed.

"I think I'm wrong Draco. I'm wrong"


	15. Chapter 15: June

6th Year, October 29th

Draco thought she was bluffing as the words left her mouth. Hermione's fingers were still wrapped around his wrist, holding him tightly so he couldn't live without using violent movement.

"Nice one Granger. Very clever trickery on your part. Now what's your theory? I take it you won't let him go until you've flaunted your success?" he teased her.

Normally Draco would have stepped forward to put his large and looming figure above his teaser. But Draco didn't dare move any closer to Hermione, fearing he would lose his train of thought far too quickly if he felt her warm breath flush against him.

"I'm serious Draco, I think I'm wrong about the magical signatures" Hermione released his hand and walked over to her parchments and books by the armchairs.

Draco's ears perked at her continued assurance that she was wrong. Her confirmation that she had been wrong about his magical signature sent a wary shiver up his spine.

Hermione Granger was, simply put it, not wrong. Draco couldn't keep track of how many times she had interrupted the teacher to correct them. Mots especially in Muggle Studies. Draco remembered one time in fifth year where he told the Professor off quite sternl when he had alluded that muggle technology was too inhumane.

"They have developed technology far exceeding that of wizarding society. Their medical innovations are extremely modern, and have the ability to save lives at a large scale capacity. In fact st Mungo's has taken to few of their innovations to ensure wizarding health"

From that day on Muggle studies usually included input form herself and the other muggle-borns in the class. The teacher's called in 'real life experience and testimony' and told the pureblood sna dhalfboods it would enhance their education.

For Draco's part in it, he barely paid attention to Muggle studies as it was, only enough to maintain his second place class rank behind Hermione. The added component of listening to the Muggle-born led discussions he barely applied himself to.

Hermione wasn't wrong. She usually knew more than anyone else in the room on whatever topic was the focus. Hermione admitting she was wrong made Draco nervous in a way he couldn't describe.

His spine shivered, he felt his hands go calmly, and his tech grit together. She was wrong, which likely meant that their research was now relevant, or at least some of it.

Draco followed Hermione, dropping the parcel on the floor just outside his door in the way.

"Wrong about what exactly?" he questioned, sitting himself down to the edge of his armchair. He leaned forward to balance his elbows on his knees. Both in nervous and intrigued gestures, and to stop his feet from tapping on the ground.

"I mean, I think your Magical Signature isn't because of a magical maladie or illness descending from the Black Family Tree genetics. We've been digging ourselves into a hole, assuming something was wrong with you-"

Draco cut her off "We are a bit generous there, and I for one do not think there is anything wrong with one" he sauntered.

"Yes because hearing voices in your head is perfectly normal and having your magic testes the dark wizards is a weekly habit of yours?" her voice was dripped in sarcasm.

Draco didn't even try to respond.

" Now you not having a maladie is not to say it's not still a trait from your Mother or her side of the family. But I don't think the ball of fire that emitted from you was a sign of weakness or sickness. I think it was a sign of strength"

Hermione's eyes didn't waver from Draco's as she spoke. She was eyeing him for his reaction, and he didn't reward her with any. Partly due to him being shell shocked by her revelation, but also because he was momentarily confused at what this revelation meant for him, for the research, for his family, or for his mission.

"You better have more than that---" Draco started, his voice coming out in breathy, anxious sighs.

Hermione nodded, slipping a piece of parchment into his lap. Draco didn't have time to eye it before she started speaking and his eyes went back to her. He was watching for body languages. Sighs there was bad news, or good news, or any solid news he could hold onto. This morning had too many incarnate in it and the sun had only just come up from the ground.

"- Your family tree has gaps in it. I know you know that. But some of them are children and it doesn't make sense that they could be disowned before reaching the end of childhood. See here - " 

Hermione took her hand up to take the top of the parchet she had handed to Draco, and pointed at it.

Draco let his eyes fall onto the parchment. She had drawn a family tree, almost one as detailed as had seen in the Manor Library. She had scribbled in any Medi-Wizard history she could find beside the names, and weaved lines of parchment from parent to child. He didn't recognize the name she had pointed to.

Marius Black.

Draco couldn't recall seeing his name anywhere on the Balck family tree or in any of the archives he had taken from the library.

"Marius Balck was born somewhere between 1915 and 1920. He was the third child of Cygnus Black and Violetta Bulstrode. His two older siblings: Pollux and Cassepia, and his little sibling: Dorea, are all still on the tree. But Marius is blacked out in all modern archives and versions of the family tree. However, his name was in the 1930's textbook you found me... and it's strange"

"What are you getting at Granger?-"

"Let me keep going" she interjected.

"Marius was erased when he was three, then died when he was fourteen, while he was at Hogwarts..."

Draco looked at her questioningly. He knew children could be erased from the tree if they were found out to be squibbs. But if they were squibbs Hogwarts would have no record of them.

"-The Hogwarts records of him state there was an explosion in potions class that left him badly burned; he succumbed to those injuries. Some of the Ministry archives never took his name off because there was no reason for him to be erased. Wizard Policy states you need a reason to remove a family member: divorce, infidelity resulting in a bastard child, that stuff. But Marius never had a reason. By all accounts he was magical, and merely a child"

Hermione took a breath in and continued, moving her finger up and across the family tree to point to another name he didn't recognize.

Lola Black.

"Lola Black is the older sister of Elladora Black. She married Bob H. who was a muggle and she was disowned - "

"I Thought you said children Granger, she was disowned for marrying a muggle. That's pretty common on my family tree"

"Zip it Draco!" Hermione shot back, and moved her finger from Lola's name, and down to two other names below hers.

" - Her children were automatically recorded on some archives, and were documented before they could be erased." Hermione moved her finger down one space in the parchment to Lola's heirs.

" Phoenix and Polaris. Twin boys born in June of 1862. They were magical, but were erased from the official tree because of their mother. Phoenix died at age 10 trying to use the floo alone, but Polaris lived until 1935." Draco saw Hermione take a another shuddering breath before continuing about Lola black's children.

Draco didn't try to intervene now, he was confused and curious as to where her mind had wandered to.

"Polaris went to Hogwarts and knew some of his cousins, that's strange considering he was supposed to be disowned. The Hogwarts students record even state that he was the highest in his class, and a brilliant wizard; he went on to work in France and was a professor for the Dark Arts at Beauxbatons until he died trying to control a ball of Fiendfire one of his students set off - that was in the Beauxbation's records"

Hermione took in her breath momentarily, and looked up. Draco's face was a contamination of confusion.

He couldn't draw a line between anything she was Saying. People got erased from the Black family tree. The Balck family was notorious for osterzing any family members who didn't comply with core values, or anyone who showed signs of magical weakness.

Draco couldn't see how Hermione thought that his magic was a sign of strength, especially when she hadn't given extreme indication that these erased children were anything more than magical, his family likely viewed them as weaklings for being half-bloods.

"- Cheris Black married Casper Crouch. Two purebloods married. Their children are not recorded on all the official archives, all that they state was that the two had three children, two girls and a boy, and nothing more. Their names are not registered in Ministry files. Pureblood socialites had presumed that all three children were squibbs, and had been erased for being a disgrace to the family name-"

"I sense a but"

"Exactly" Hermione smiled at him. Draco nodded, shifting awkwardly in his seat slightly with Hermione So close to him, kneeling at his feet no less while he sat in the armchair.

"- Hogwarts had a record of them attending. It was filed under Black in the restriction section of the student archives. They were magical, and used the Black surname... yet they don't appear on any Black family trees. The girls were twins: Apollo and Vega. They Both graduated from Hogwarts. Apollo became an Aruor but was killed when a Incedio spell went off- there's record of her death in the Auror archives, under the Surname Crass, presumably she married a half-blood. Vega was a member of the Ministry, she dealt with forgein affairs concerning MACUSA , her death was recorded shortly after her sisters, less than a month, in a suspicious house fire".

"And their son?" Draco asked.

"Canis, He attended Hogwarts too, not much about him though. I don't know if he died young, or whether he had any children- but he's not who I was focussing on, he lacks connection"

"Then what was the bloody point of your rant Granger? I know my family has a nasty habit of erasing people, what does it have to do with me? Where is the connection?"

"Every child that was erased from the tree was magical, not a squibb. Even if they were half - bloods, the Black family is known to crave power and dominance in wizarding society. All of the children who were erased held prominent roles within Hogwarts, and then after as well. They should have been claimed by another Black family member, even if it was just to use them to gain their own power - but they didn't, something had to be amiss to not be claimed before or after they died Draco"

"So there is a pattern of children with remarkable magical strength being disowned. Those children either die really young, or they become prominent witches and wizards in wizarding society, still unclaimed by the Black family, and they all died of weird fiery accidents?" 

Draco asked, trying to confirm a summarization of Hermione's half an hour lesson on the disowned part of his family tree.

"Yes, exactly" she nodded. Hermione still hadn't moved from her poisons. She was sitting on the carpet by Draco's feet, perched up on the balls of her feet in order to be level to point to spots on the parchment that was resting in his hands.

Draco was trying very hard not to think about her. Her scent, freshly showered and shampooed, was so strong he was sure it had seeped through the wall and into his own room. He knew it wouldn't provide him with the escape it always did. She would still surround him.

Furthermore she was sitting practically between his parted knees in order to be able to reach the parchment he was holding, and her position was driving his Amortentia-drugged mind bonkers.

He longed to touch her again. Just a second. One trail down her arm, one spiral of her curls. Anything. The longing pain underneath his ribs was shooting out of control, urging him to react to something.

Draco sat back aggressively, taking the parchment with him, causing Hermione to fall back onto her back on the carpet. She was no longer leaning up towards, and it broke their airposace by afew inches. Draco was thankful for that.

"I still don't really know how it affects me. I'm not disowned. I'm flattered you think my intelligence was a playing part in drawing connections here, but that's hardly enough logic to go off of, what is the connection of me to them?"

"Draco..." Hermione drew out her words, causing him to meet her eyes. There was hesitation behind her wide eyes, like she was about to say something that would break him. Draco walked her gulp slightly, a nervous habit: he thought, and then she continued.

"Draco, they were all born in June"

June.

June. He was born in June. June 5th to be precise.

There was his connection. But it was hardly one that Hermione would base an entire theory on. Let alone a theory in a whole new direction that changes the output of their research for good.

But it was a connection nonetheless. A connection he couldn't dispute. They were born in June. they were members of the Black family that had been disowned at a young age. They were powerful witches and wizards. And they were born in June. He was born in June.

But that didn't explain the magical signatures. Hermione had insisted that her theory revolved around his magical signature. That it wasn't a sickness or genetic magical maladie. She thought that the ball of fire... fire: he thought.

He met Hermione's eyes again. Draco wasn't sure when he had left hers to stare blankly down the armrest, his head being soothed by his own hand's grip at his temple. There was assurance and worry in her eyes. Like she was waiting from him to fit the pieces of the puzzle together.

Fire.

His magical signature was a ball of fire. Fire that burned his core and sent flames into his veins. A fire that had erupted out of him at the spell's command that night in ogrin and Burkes. A fire they couldn't explain no matter how many celtic journal's they translated, or how many maladies they researched. His fire was an anomaly in the wizarding archives.

Fire.

"They all died from fire" He whispered to himself, not indenting her to hear it, more of an assurance to himself that he had connected the dots the right way.

"They all died from fire," Hermione whispered back.

***

-" Just let me tell him, he needs to know" - The voice stilled his nearly perfect slumber. The closest he'd had to restful night in weeks.

Shooting physical daggers of pain in the back of his eyes. Draco felt tingles envelope his body. The kind that you get when your feet feel asleep. Sharp, needle-point pains all over his torso, bis back, his arms, and legs. He winced as the pain continued to wreck his body, pulling him fully out of any relaxed state he had managed to create before.

-"You know why we can't. The minute he finds out, you and him are in danger. They will hunt you both" - Draco instantly recognized the voice as belonging to his head of house, Snape.

The hooded voice that he couldn't recognize had never interacted with any other person before, beside himself in real time.

-"But the later he finds out, the more danger Narcissa will be in... she's been in danger too long keeping it to herself. She can't occlude any longer" -

-"She has always been in danger. How do you know she had reached a breaking point?"- Snape's shrill voice cut the unknown voice off.

-" You know exactly how. I can get in her head the same way I can get in Draco's. She's breaking"- Draco could almost hear the smirk in the person's voice. Still unable to see anything. The pitch black was erie against the hidden person's audio.

The voice had only ever mentioned his Mother once.

At the mention of Narcissa's name before, Draco had shot awake instantaneously. As much as the horror of his mother's name on an unknown person's lips shook him to his core, Draco remained in a state of consciousness as the conversation progressed.

-'You need to stop that , you'll break him in the process of trying to get to him. I know about your escapade when Draco was in potions class, you are lucky that Miss Granger knows about his 'dreams' so that he doesn't have to do it alone. You need to stop, he can't know. If he dies then it will destroy Narcissa" - 

Snape's tone held all the aspects of a warning. Cold and threatening as he made his point clear in the conversation.

-"Narcissa is already destroying herself!"-

-"And she will die to protect her son, you know that as well as I do" -

-"I know... she would do anything for him" - The voice flattered slightly. Draco couldn't place what the steady and strong tone was replaced with. 

Shame? Worry? Regret? Nothing seemed to fit just how much thuer voice had dropped.

-" This stops now. No more talking to him in his head. No more dropping hints. If Narcissa decides to tell Draco then you can discuss it with her, but until that, or if that ever happens, you stop"- if it was possible Snape's voice dropped several more threatening octaves.

-'' Narcissa has never spoken to me"- The voice was quiet, almost a whisper. Perhaps something Snape was never intended to hear.

-" Narcissa is an occlumens, she would know if you were in her head. Take comfort in that. I am aware that this is just as hard for you as it is for her'' - Snape's threatening tone suddenly became soft and vaguely comforting. 

It was something Draco had only heard once before, When Snape was confronting his mother on Borgin and Burkes before he had to take him back to the castle. It was strange to hear his crass professor sound dear and light.

The other voice didn't respond. Not a whisper to themselves, or mumble under their breaths that Draco would recognize. Absolute silence fell into the dark image in his head. The pain was shooting and dispersing through his veins, crashing down on him like the weight of a thousand bricks.

-" Just Stop talking to him"- Snape's final words were followed by the echoing of footsteps in the distance.

At the steps became few and far, so quiet Draco might have thought he was actually making up the sound. Draco thought it was another. He was self-aware, something that was aware during his ~dreams~. Potentially indicative of his senses returning to reality.

Suddenly the voice returned. Softer and more quiet than Draco had ever registered it. He hadn't expected it in the slightest, he expected to wake up or linger in restless sleep. The only indication that the whispers were returning was the pain that erupted in his core. 

Fury. Passionate. Completing numbing his insides as it spread through his entire toeor. Burning him from the inside out.

-"Draco?"- It asked.

If Draco was capable of discerning his movements, he would have guessed he would have gone stiff as a board. He knew the person was speaking in real-time and sounded unsure, asking if he was even there, meaning the person who was speaking usually was intending to have him listen, if not usually speaking to him directly without another person present.

-" Draco I know you can hear me... and I hope you heard that, all of it... Tell Hermione everything"-

Draco's eyes snapped open at that. 

The pain that erupted in his whole body as his eyes met the blinding light of the mid-day sent his body into a shivered panic. His hands balled into fists of clammy fingers pressing against his palms, so hard and deep that he was drawing specks of blood.

He felt light-headed, like he might pass out from the extended period of self-awareness within his slumber. He was paralyzingly stiff, and the needle-point tunngle sof pain shouted around his body with a nervous frenzy, erupting in pressure points without warning causing him to wince in pain.

His thoughts ran rampant. June. Fire. Snape. Voice. His Mother. 

He took in a shuddering breath, gasing when he didn;t feel his lungs fill with air. He repeated the attempt to take in oxygen again when another wave of mind-numbing tangles went behind his eyes.

June. Fire. Snape. Voice. His Mother.

Draco tried to take in breaths. Heaving heavily when his lungs grasped for air. Umablet filled his lungs and he started to panic. He felt his pulse quicken at the speed of light. 

He heard the thrumming of his beating heart in his ears. Loud and rampant, indicating his increasing state of panic. it echoed in his ears along with the lingering screams on torture that usually followed his wake up calls from his dreams. It was torture.

The overload of his senses mixed with his thoughts make him feel like he could pass out.

Draco could faintly hear something calling his name, but he couldn't register who, or if he was making up the sounds in his head as a way to ground himself in reality.

He thought mild that perhaps he ad finally truly lost it. That he was sitting alone in his bed and none of it was real. He pulled his hands up to his head to slam against his forehead, trying to will himself out of what he hoped was still a hopeless dream.

"Draco! Draco!" He heard the noise come in clearer. 

But his head still echoed with screams of pain, his pupils were still blown wide, and his airless, gasping breaths still stirred his panic, causing his ability to focus to blur.

He heard his name called out once more, faintly and scared, before he felt pressure on his back. Warm, soft, and stable pressure in the centre of his back. 

The pressure traveled through his shoulder and into his forearms in a delicate pattern. Tenderly, and timidly, as though he might break.

His sense slowly started to return. The thrumming of his heart's oace still prevalent in his ears, and the breaths still clutching, trying to find air and release. But some of his senses came back. The world around him became less blurry and out of course, and Draco could reset the pressure he was feeling around him from another body.

Hermione.

She was sitting behind him and had her arms wrapped around his shoulder. Her front was placed on his back, and her hands wove around his forearms, holding him firmly with her whole body.

Draco managed to get one word out in his hyperventilating state.

" ... what? ..."

"You're having a panic attack" Hermione spoke softly. Draco could hear the worry in her voice as she squeezed his body harder around him. It sent electric jolts though his spine, jolts that shouldn't have occurred under her soft touch - "try to calm down, take slower breaths, it will help".

"... what? ... what are you?...?" Draco tried to ask her what she's doing pressing her entire body against his, making his head numb with more incredulous thoughts.

In all the times he had longed to touch her. All the times her scent drew him in to her... He had never touched her more than a twirl of one of her curls, or a graze with his fingers when he draped a blanket over her.

But She had her whole body flush with his, pressing into him, it sent jolts in his spine, and tingles on skin, only adding to the painful numbness left on the underside of his skin. 

"Remember I told you about Psychology?" she asked softly, Draco nodded in confusion. "Muggle psychologists, the people who study psychology, say that when someone is having a panic attack to hold them, or make them feel contained. They say it grounds your head to reality, to focus on something other than your mind. Try to focus on breathing, or ...." Hermione flustered her words momentarily ".... feeling" she concluded.

Draco felt anything but grounded. Her body pressed against his sent a flurry of new thoughts through his head. He tried to focus on his breathing, he really did. He was trying desperately to focus on his breathing, slow and strong, in and out, instead of focusing on feeling her body pressed firmly to his.

She was warm and soft, and when Draco felt her head rest on his back between his shoulder blades he sucked in a hard breath at the affectionate gesture. He was left abandoning his will to ignore her touch, and instead leaning into it. 

He let out a large sigh-gasp and fell back slightly, his body so weak from the trials of panic still coursing through him. But he finally drew breath in, a relief to both of them. 

"See? That's better" Hermione let out a sigh of laughter following Draco's lull of panic when he leaned into her touch and stopped shuddering under her body. Draco felt Hermione fingers twitch in their hold around his forearms. She began to lazily draw soothing circles on his skin just below his elbow.

"Voice?" she asked quietly, her head still rested on his back.

Draco only nodded in response, not knowing if he could manage proper words at the moment. His earlier questioning had barely been coherent, and he guessed she only knew how to respond based on the confusion written plainly across his face.

Gaining most of his vision and hearing back, Draco recognized that he was sitting on the floor. The scracty carpet underneath him. From where Hermione was behind him, on her knees, her back as against the butt of the armchair. 

Books layed around them, and he guessed he had fallen asleep shortly after his revelation about June and Fire.

June and Fire: he thought to himself.

How could he forget Hermione's revelation about his family tree, and the strange connection certain disowned children had to him. 

But then there was his ~dream~, and the voice, and his Mother. Someone was keeping something from him. Perhaps the last piece to this complicated puzzle. Perhaps the answer to why those kids were erased? 

Hermione's voice fought into his thoughts, pulling him away from them before he talked himself into another panic attack.

"What was it this time?" she asked again, a little winter and her voice willed with hesitation again, worried she would send him into another panic attack if he was asked to recount his previous ~dream~.

Draco didn't say anything, unsure of whether or not she should know. But the voice flashed in his ears briefly - tell Hermione everything-.

So Draco did just that. He didn't even bother to move from his location on the floor. She stayed behind him, though her arms flaters to rest at her own sides, she kept her head between his shoulder blades as a comforting gesture. 

He did;t ask her to move. Both in order to avoid an uncomfortable conversation, but also because he did;t want her to. 

He told her about Snape, his mother's connection to it all, and the Voice. He told her how the person had talked to him in real time, as if they weren't even sure he had been there. Hermione listened to every word, taking it all in.

He finished quite quickly, letting the words spew out of him left him breathless. He rushed through it all, eager to take his concentration away from his ~dreams~. 

Once he was done he let Hermione think about everything he had just said, letting her ponder her thoughts.Of which she seemed to have many by the way he judged her scrunched eyebrows in confusions, wide down eyes, and the tilt of her head every so often that indicated a new development or flaw in her theory. 

He still didn't move from where he sat, leaning against the small, female frame behind him, feeling her warmth. The longer his chest leaned into her, the longer he was closer to her, the more Draco felt like his body was free of pain. 

He liked the feeling of freedom, even if it came with her. 

Draco allowed himself to feel the calm that rushed through him at her touch. Allowed himself to sit in the airspace which contained a sweet scent. Draco didn't want to move, and so he let himself stay right where he was, content to feel her touch against him.

Hermione didn't move either.


	16. Chapter 16: Whispers in Reality

6th Year, November 4th

“Draco stop staring, someone’s gonna catch on”

Draco registered Blaise nuge him rather aggressively on his side. He hadn’t even realized he’d been staring. He let his mind wander, for once trying to get the voice to speak to him. The flashback of Hermione’s response to his ramble about what he heard the other day stuck with him constantly.

-

“Draco do you think it's possible you initiated that contact?” Hermione’s voice was still-and quiet, almost unsure if she should even bother asking the question, if Draco would think her idea to be preposterous.

“I-- what?” He stammered back a response, still climbing down from his breathless ramble and his panic attack, or so that’s what she called it.

“Well you said the voice wasn’t sure you were listening. They don't know if you had heard everything they and Snape said. Do you think that maybe you subconsciously tried to listen in on something, and they noticed you breach contact?”

“I- I don’t think so… Why would i?”

“Well I did just stun the shit out of you, and you were a little on edge when you went to sleep. It’s possible you tired to find an answer, and that was your brians path… you could try again, another time… see if you can initiated contact with the voice”

“You think I want to wake up screaming and thrashing and go through whatever the hell I just went through? Are you thick?”

“I don’t” her voice was full of assurances when she contoned. She was looking him up and down, reading his body league. He knew it was giving himself away. His shoulders were slumped from exhaustion, and his eyes were heaven and dropped low. He was thinking. He knew that he should try. “But it means something. We know that. And it could be a two way connection”

“Alright fine” he grumbled, finally getting up from his comfy position against her. She had only moved to the side slightly, to read his body language. Otherwise she had stayed behind him sitting oher knees the whale time Draco had talked about the voice and Snape.

She hadn't moved since her arms were around him, He was silently begging her to do that again. 

-

Coming back to the moment Draco felt Blaise still nudging his side. Draco had never moved his eyes from where they were placed directly on Hermione, who was engaged in an avid conversation with Aurie at the table across the Great Hall. Aurie had started sitting at whicher table she pleased, he guessed Hmerione’s “house unity” fantasy bullshit had rubbed off on her.

If he was being honest, staring at Hermione actually let him focus on trying to get into the other voices head. A practice head results agreed to for research purposes.. And to get her to shut up. He’d had no such luck the whole of the weekend, or the first few days of classes, now he was left wondering why.

Before that night the voice came at any time, inopportune times even, but now even if he tried to cause the terrors of midnight, the voice never came. He’d gotten close the other night in the common room. He found himself watching Hermione making tea and when he spoke in his head he heard his own voice echo. It was small, but it was something that constituted progress.

Draco quickly averted his eyes to stare at his empty plate. Empty in the sense that there had never been anything on it.

“I wasn’t staring” he mumbled, only so Blaise could hear.

“Hmmm, and I’m not devilishly handsome. I see we are telling absurd lies this evening. " Blaise made a sound that sounded like a 'humpff'. "You were staring” Blaise joked, popping cherry tomato in his mouth.

“What's it to you if I was?” Draco mumbled again, reaching for a goblet of pumpkin juice.

“Not anything to me, I know all about your dirty little secret. My guess is however, you don’t want the whole Hall knowing, especially Granger”

Draco didn't look up, he froze instantly when Blaise mentioned other people finding out about his Amortentia, his goblet of juice wavering near his face, not touching his mouth.

“Or maybe Granger already knows… and you’ve already jumped in the ship with her?” Blaise jokes, again nudging Draco in the side, causing him to slightly spill his juice at the unwelcomed impact with his ribs.

This time he looked up to meet Blaise eyes, fury in them at his friend's accusation.

“I have not” He whispered angrily.

“Well if you don’t soon the whole of Hogwarts will know your intentions before you act on them. At the very least all of our Potions class. Honestly mate you stare the the poor girl a lot”

Draco didn’t care to admit Blaise was right, he had accepted the fact himself, but had no intention to give Blaise that satisfaction. 

The truth was he did stare at her. Since she had pulled him out of that panicked state, he had stopped fighting her: in every sense of it.

He stopped fighting her questions. That took extreme difficulty on his part. He stopped fighting the urge to smash in her door when he didn’t earn to give her the satisfaction of a midnight walk. He would knock lightly and wait for her to bundle herself up before they walked to the Back Lake. He stopped fighting her scent, and let the calm warmth wash over him.

He didn’t exactly know why he stopped fighting. But he liked the feeling of it. Draco was angry at first with himself, for letting a screw loose, leetin gsomethong slip in his resrve, but the calmness that washed over him in her presence was undeniable. She was unable to him, and he hated it almost as much as he liked it.

Draco’s shoulders slumped as he brought the goblet down, not bothering to attempt a sip. He closed his eyes momentarily, bowing his head to will himself not to look at her. God dammit that was hard: he thought to himself.

“Can I make a few suggestions?” Blaise chimed up, his voice still low enough for only Draco to hear. Not that it particularly mattered. Even with resident numbers from the start of the year the Great Hall was eerily empty. Theo and Pansy had appeared at the Library to work on a Muggle Studies essay, and Draco and Blaise were the only 6th years left at the Slytherin Table anyways.

“You can make one” Draco huffed in response.

“Do something, literally anything. Kiss her, shag her, take a shower and use her bloody shampoo for all I care, smell like honey for a week. Just do something to stop yourself from going mad. You have bigger problems”

Draco didn’t bother with a response when Blaise pulled himself up from the table and out of the Hall.

Bigger problems.

No shit. Between his mission, the voices, the research, and Hemione he couldn't tell where is problemas beckham, or if they even had an end in sight. His colossal failure to send his owl to Dumbledore had earned him a stern stunning spell from Snape. Snape at the very least seemed reluctant to conjure the spell against him, saying they would search his memory for failure to provide punishment.

Snape, Voice, June, Fire, Panic, Hermione.

That night, the burning prickling his skin, he went on an extra long walk with Hermione in the bitter cold. Not really caring to bundle up the way she had, instead letting the cold winds kiss his cheeks and freeze his hands until they were numb at his sides. Too numb to accidentally give in and touch her curl again.

He wasn’t going mad. At the very least not at her hands. There was a point in which he had decided that her very existence was what was driving him to the brink of reality. But now, in some twisted, manic and unwelcomed absurd reality, as he now called it, Hermione Fucking Granger was the only real thing he could think of. The only thing wasn't driving him mad. And that was decidedly worse.

Bigger problems, indeed.

Stalkily Draco pulled himself from the Slytherin Table in the Great Hall, fully resigned to the fact that he would not be eating dinner that evening. Getting caught by Blaise was one thing, but him insinuating that other people would notice was another.

Draco decided that going to the common room, and exciting in the space where he felt safe would be his best bet for trying to communicate with whatever voice he was hearing. He needed to talk to them. Ask them anything. About his mother, the secret they were doing a bloody fantastic job at keeping, and how the hell affected his magical signature. They had never explicitly referenced that, but he was damn sure it had to be connected, it had to.

Clamoring into the common room, Draco felt the sweet scent of Hermione hit him sinaly. Soothing his temples at only a second of contact. Dammit: he thought, it was bad. It was so so bad.

He fell right into Hermione’s armchair, if he was still going to call it that. Everytime he found himself alone in the common room he gravitated to her armchair, it smelt like her.

This is bordering on obsession: he thought to himself, knowing well enough that it had been for a while.

He closed his knees, elbows resting on knees, head in heads, rubbing his temple furiously; trying his best to concentrate in going into his own mind. His strategy has been to descend on himself and hope it found his consciousness sprawled into anothers. By his brief stint of success, he decided that it was working. He was just liley being ignored by Snape’s warning.

Another peculiar detail Hermione had noted to him. She had said that unless this voice and Snape were engaged in an entirely lucid conversation within each other's conissuness, it was likely that the person talking to him was in the castle.

It was likely Draco knew the person who was withholding apparently crucial information, the information that affected his Mother, affected him. The person who was sending burning sensations into his skill was in the castle. And that made it about a million times worse. More so that Draco couldn’t recognize their voice, so they were likely doing a good job at concealing their identity on purpose to him.

Draco rubbed his temple once more, lenain ga little further into the elbows, digging harshly into the thighs.

C’mon: he thought to himself.

He tried to speak again, in his head, deep in his mind. He didn’t hear the echo. He tried again and again to no avail.

Fuck: he though to himself, finally giving in and leaning into Hermione’s armchair. Her parchment was spread on the carpet: she never moved it away anymore, always left it out so he could read her theories if she missed him in the common room.

He had read them all.

June: every person that was removed from the tree at a young age was born in june, Just like he was.

Fire: every one of those people died in some form of ire. Either explosion, burning victims, or accidents, all of them had been exposed to fire and decided to flames in some way or another.

Magical Signature: there was no way to prove their theory about that. Hermione suggested that the fires were literal magical tantrums or outburst that swallowed the witch or wizards in moments of stress, levain ga path of destruction in their wake. She had said it could be similar to an obscurus.

There was the next theory. That HIS fire wasn’t a weakness, wasn’t a sickness, or a fault. But instead a strength hidden in him. It explained his Aunt’s reaction at Borgin and Burkes, and explained why all the removed people from the tree were high ranking or prominent members of wizarding society.

All that was left was: why? Why were they removed? Why were they never claimed for their talents by the Blakc family? Why him? What did all of these people, children, born in June, die in fires? And why did it affect him? June and fire, his connections seemed like coincidences. How did the whispers play into it? There were no accounts of that particular family member going mad? or hearing voices?

He grunted into his palms, His hands raked through his hair, grasping at it to feel something that wasn't inside him. Even external pain made him feel grounded in the lake of the strenuous internal needles being stabbed into his skull at all times. Even without the whispers, the pain lingered.

Hermione didn’t come back by seven o'clock that evening. Deciding that she was likely out with Potter and Weasel: the dipshit duo, Draco huffed himself off the armchair and out into the corridor. Needing to escape from his failing attempts at communications and let his skin feel the sharp winds.

Draco only made it halfway around the corridor from the common room before he heard the whispers.

He thought for a moment that the voice had penetrated its way back into his head, and was engaged in another conversation they were letting him in one. But they sounded more real than that. More tangible. And when he rounded the corner, ever so slightly as to not be seen, his knees nearly gave out beneath him.

Snape and his Mother were tucked behind an alcove window. 

The newly early setting sun left a barely there glimmer along his Mother’s face, enough that Drcao could tell it wasn't just another Blond woman, it was undeniably his mother.

She looked even weaker than the last time he had seen her. Cheeks sunken to show the hollows her bones created, all sharp angles. Her hair was pulled tightly back, creating very little separation between her platinum hair and her ivory complexion.

Even more worrisome was that Draco could clearly tell that she didn’t have a guard present. She couldn’t have, if she was in the castle. Death Eaters were, under no circumstances, permitted. Snape seemed to be an exception, Draco's suspicion that Dumbldore’s age had reduced him to stupidity to allow Snape to slip through the crack.s Thaterphpas years of built trust blinded him to Snape’s true loyalties to the Dark side.

His mother was in the castle without a Guard present, meaning his father and voldemort had permitted her visit. Draco also knew one other thing. If she was here to see him, she would have already done so. Would have been barreling for his room the second she stepped to the grounds. No. No, his mother was certainly not here for him. Because of that fact Draco crept to the side, allowing his whole body to flesh itself out on the stone walls to quietly listen.

“Of course I know Narcissa; Knew the minute I laid eyes on them” Draco heard Snape's voice cut through the hair, splittin the silence.

“Does Draco--” His Mother’s voice was warm, welcoming, but strange and foregn at the same time. Her strength was evident in her tone, hidden beneath her weak exterior, a determined woman, wanting only to protect her family at all costs to herself.

“No, no thanks to you. You should have told him a long time ago Narcissa, they are trying to get to him”

“I know they are-”

“You know they speak to him?” Snape questions, fascination nsd annoyance evident in his voice. 

Draco gripped the side of the stone beneath his fingers, feeling the rough groove callus his skin.

“Yes, I can feel them in my head too. Listening in on things, trying to talk to me. They are stronger than I thought they would be… they can control themselves… it's strange, they should be unhinged, but they have remarkable control” Narcuissa's voice wavered slightly in her strength. Her presence was filled with fansition and confusion.

There. Draco knew they were referring to whomever was speaking to him, in his head at least. They confirmed they were in the castle, and his mother knew about them. Definitely connected: he thought.

“Indeed, It seems their caretaker over the years did not adhere to the rules. They know who they are, very well actually, and can control their abilities to the highest extent I’ve ever seen.” Snape stopped talking for a minute. A minute filled with anxiety that festered in the air and the pit of Draco’s stomach. Anxiety and tension that was evident in both Snape and his mother at Snapes next words. “ Draco needs to know, they will kill him if he does, but he deserves the truth.”

“Severeus you made a vow to protect him-”

“I made a vow to protect him, and ensure his mission got complete. Not telling him might very well get him killed before I can uphold the section half of the vow. Tell him Narcissa”

Draco chose that exact moment to free himself of the cold stone wall and round the corner. The moonlight made his silhouette visible as he approached the alcove. Determination, fear, and anger plastered on his face as he approached the pair hidden between the castles alcoves.

“Tell me what?” he yelled, almost snarl- like. Not even looking at Snape. He faced his mother directly, his large frame looming over hers. Draco watched the horrors and motherly instinct wash over her face, and her hand retract as she instinctively reached for her son.

“Draco you-” His mother started, regaining some composure and sternness.

“Weren't supposed to hear that, no shit. How the hell are you here Mother?” Draco's voice was harsher than he anticipated when he addressed his mother. The anger towards their secrecy coursed through him and changed his demeanor drastically. His mother noticed, and didn't acknowledge her son's rudeness.

“Mr Malfoy, why don’t you go back to your room, we can send for you later” Snape interjected.

“Like hell I will. What’s going on?” Draco moved to grab his mother’s wrist in tender hold. It was a stark contrast, “You can’t be here, if they find out you left they'll starve you up in the room again” His voice dropped to tender as he cradled his mother’s hands.

Still furious that they were both shielding apparently life threatening information from him, Draco couldn’t help but worry for his mother’s security. She would surely be punished for leaving, her being alone would make it worse.

“Your father and the Dark Lord permitted my visit on the grounds that I stay with Severus. We have some things to discuss, and Severus visiting the Manor would cause a disruption in Wizarding Society while he still holds a position as a professor” His mother’s voice was so stern and assertive. Draco knew she would have every answer to his questions, always did, even if they were drawn out and complicated.

“Then why, pray tell, are you discussing me - without me present?” Draco sneered, taking his gaze off his mother to drift over to Snape. He didn’t release his Mother’s hands, no matter how angry he was for the secrecy, he could at least admit it was good to know she was decently well, and her care had not been completely erased.

“It does not concern yo-”

“I think my life being endangered very much does concern me professor” Draco cut in, fury rising back into his tone.

“Draco, I would have told you if it was important before now” Draco completely ignored his mother’s comment, knowing fully well to be a blatant lie. A lite to protect her son at least, but still a life that he saw right through.

“Who are they?” he asked, then carfied “The person who speaks to me, they are in the castle, I heard that part of the conversation. So, who are they?” He looked between his mother and Snape, they both held crossed expressions.

“That you can’t know”

“Do they have something to do with Marius, Apollo, Vega, Polaris, and Phoenix Black? Do they have something to do with why my magical signature is a ball of fire?” At Draco words he watched his Mother’s posture tense. Shoulder squeeze, up, hands shuffle at her sides, and her lips purse into a thin white line.

Draco realized his Mother had not been made aware of his research, well his and Hermione’s research but he assumed Snape would omit her from the story to his Mother. But she clearly was none to wiser to his knowledge about the Celtic spell, the fact that he knew about the voices, had heard them himself, and that he had - with the help of Granger- made a connection to his family tree.

“Yes I know what that spell did at Borgin and Burkes, and as it turns out the Black family doesn’t erase their records as well as they think they do” he clarified, and watched his Mother tense up further. Her eyes Snapped to Severus.

His mother stammered to take “-I--it--” but Snape cut her off instantly.

“That is enough Narcissa. Draco should have never knew you were here, let alone heard anything”

His Mother’s eyes narrowed very heavily at Snape. Draco knew that look. He had watched Narcissa give that look to his Father on several occasions. He knew extremely what it meant: it was her ‘ we need to say it’ look.

Snape seemed to understand it too, and looked between mother and son for a second before making up his mind. Tensions once again filled the air, it never really left, but it lessened to some extent.

“Next week you will go with your classmates to Hogsmede. I will arrange for one of the Carrow siblings to meet you at the Three Broomsticks. You will bring the charmed necklace with you, and the Carrow will apparate with you to the Manor” Snape’s voice held no question, but Draco’s head suddenly swarmed with them.

He shouldn’t be permitted to leave the grounds, that was one of the restrictions on the Senior Prefect positions. Not that Snape had adhered that rule before. But how would a Carrow, known Death Eaters sneak into the Hogsmeade and out? Why did the necklace have to be returned? Surely his mission still stood, even with family complications?

But one question stood out above everything else riddling the brain. Why were they giving up so easily?

“The Necklace?” Draco question, the only reasonable question he thought he could get an answer about.

“Yes, that attempt failed, we will see to it that another plan is created for you to carry out” Snaoe snapped.

‘We’: Draco thought, why ‘we’, this was still supposed to be his agenda to follow, not Snapes, and certainty not his mothers. He was about the pressure further when he felt his mother’s hands watch in his. She manverd her small hands to grab hold of his wrist, and gave an assuring little squeeze; both an ask of compliance, and assurance that she would tell him everything once he got to the Manor.

Snape shot him a warning look, and Draco didn’t press further.

“Yes, yes I will be there” He sighed, annoyed and still angry.

Narcissa extended her arms to grasp his forearms and reached up to press and a gentle kiss on her son's cheek.

“I will see you in a little over a week darling” she smiled, then pressed her hands so that he was forced to step back a little, signaling that he was meant to leave.

Reluctantly he did. Taking a step backwards, with a defeated grumble, Draco turned on his heel and walked around the corridor. He stalled when he rounded the corner, trying to listen in on the remnants of Snape and his Mother’s conversation. He managed to make out snippets.

“Narcissa, What happens when he finds out? Do you take them in? Together?”

“If he knows he can grow stronger… protect them both, they won’t need me”

“They are trained, well in fact, I doubt your son will be able to catch up. They can control much more than just their mind. But they will both need you-”

“Draco can learn from them… and as I see it Draco has made good acquaintance with one Hermione Granger she will be useful as well”

“You kn-”

“I know my son Severus, he smells like honey and there is only one other person he shares a bathroom with in that common room”

Draco stopped away at that - not daring to find out what his Mother meant by ‘useful”. Narcissa knew about Hermione, well at least some of it. She knew that he handmade an acquaintance of sorts with her, and she thought that she would be useful.

Useful. The word felt like bile in his throat.

He stopped outside the painting of Hogwarts, allowing himself to view the artistic mastering for a few lingering moments. He never really got a look at it after McGonagell had first showed them the common room. It was grand and detailed, and possibly the largest painting in their corridor.

When Draco reached his hand out to the metal frame, allowing his palm to reflexively stretch out on the cold metal, he sucked in a sharp breath… but not from the cold.

“Draco!” Pain swept in his head at the voice's first return in a few days. Hr leaned into the frame, bracing himslefon the wall as he leaned down to rest his forehead on the cool brass. It decreased fome do the numb throbbing in his temple.

“What?” he whispered slightly, not even sure if they would register he was speaking at all.

When they responded to his rather harsh question Draco nearly stumbled into the wall himself, shocked that not only the voice had returned after days of absence, but also that they could hear him too.

“I heard it all…” they started, then stopped themselves.

“Heard all of what?” he rasped out, weak and dizzy. Apparently communicating in a two way echo chamber with this person knocked the wind andnergy completely out of him, and he was very thankful to be supporting his weight against the wall.

“Your Mother and Snape---- and all week too--- I heard it” they whispered.

“Who are you?” he mangled to speak, lungs heaving for stable breaths and steady feet.

“I can’t - I can’t tell you…” their voice drew quiet at the end, and Draco thought that perhaps they had severed the connection. Desperate for answers that he was being denied, he tried to speak again.

“You heard that they are telling me, why not tell me first?” he questioned, regaining some composure. Still leaning against the cold frame, Draco turned himself to have his back resting against the coolness, allowing a shiver to rush up his spine, cooling the burning sensations monetary. His head fell back against the painted canvas, and stared up at the ceiling.

“I won’t put you in danger before I have to. Now that I know they will tell you, have a date even, I’ll stop trying”

Draco scoffed at their sudden compliance. If he knew anything about the person behind this voice, it was that they were incredibly stubborn. Almost as stubborn as Hermione could be. With his regained composure after the sudden intrusion he took himself back.

“I thought you were headstrong, suppose I thought too highly of the hidden voice in my head” He laughed. He was very aware that if anyone walked around the corner that they would think he had actually gone mad. Talking himself outside his own common room, looking like he might pass out against the portrait.

Draco heard the voice laugh, it was soft and small, nothing more than a quick giggle, but he definitely heard it before they brushed it off.

“Maybe I’m protecting myself too here” their tone was far too light to meet the warning that was hidden behind her words.

Draco truthfully hadn't considered the possibility that this other person was also endangered by whatever this connection was. It had been said to him on multiple occasions that he would be endangered once he found out the truth. But this other person already knew whatever was being kept from him, so they would already be in danger.

Why did it all rest on him knowing?

“Why would you be-” he started, before he got interrupted for the fifth time that night.

“Please Draco” was softer than they had ever spoken, and Draco wasn’t sure that it was possible for a voice to be so soft, so pleading, so desperate.

“Fine” he pushed the single word though fitted teeth. He had been doing a decent job of pushing the pain from the forefront of his mind, but the sense that they were leaving was causing his mind to focus more and more of the numbing needle-like tingles that spanned the expanse of his body.

“When they tell you… I’ll come see you” They spoke their words, and then they were gone. Only an echo of their presence was left, and Draco still stood slumped against the portrait, weak from the connection, and with pain returning in agonizing strides.

Draco almost smiled when he saw Hermione’s petite frame curled in on itself on his armchair, he promptly followed the quick flare of his lips to smirk; a defensive gesture. It was an instinct the same instinct that shot a flare in his core right under his ribs. And it was the same instant that padded his feet to stand right above her at the base of the chair.

Her scent filled the air, welcoming him back to the safety of the common room. He sighed silently, only letting out his breath without a noise behind him. She was asleep, so deeply asleep and Draco knew that his next move would go completely unnoticed by her; that was his rationale for doing it.

Hermione had already covered herself in her red quilt, no longer could that be his excuse to let the pds of his finger barely swipe across her side. But in her sleeping state Draco allowed his hands to brush the side of her cheeks, feeling her skins warth with the back of his fingers as he caressed her cheek. The back of his finger strace a line from her cheekbone to her jaw, and then into her curls. He took one tight spiral in his finger and twriled it around gently. So careful not to pull too hard and jerk her awake.

Draco let his eyes linger on her face, grasping to anything that would distract him from the confusion that was going on his mind. Anything to calm the blizzard of questions.

Her brows were not furrowed, implying that she was in fact sleeping soundly. Draco was jealous of that, but also released another sigh at knowing she was finally getting sleep that wasn’t filled with mental images of her parents' dead bodies.

She hadn’t said she was still having nightmares, but her sleepless nights proved otherwise to him.

Draco Carefully released the curl from his finger, recently, not necessary. He longed to feel her warmth again, her scent engulfing him, and her soft skin against his, even if it was only her hand on his arm. Draco would take anything that wasn’t complicated right now.

Except she was complicated to an extent. Her presence was welcoming, her scent deliciously intoxicating, and her soft warmth a longing for in his mind. But she, Hermione, knew none of that. All she knew was that when he couldn’t sleep, he let her tag along on his cold and bitter walks. She didn’t know he wanted her there, needed her there, to clear his mind of all the uncertainties.

She was uncertain, but Draco was damned to admit that. Dammed to admit she meant much more than a mere fluke in Amortentia. No, she was nothing more than a claiming pre csne, a calming precedence that his tortured, and traumatized brian had gravitated towards and now he was stuck there. That was his excuse.

Blaise words hung in Draco’s ear at Draco’s fingers release of Hermione coffee curls.

‘-Do something --- take a shower and use her bloody shampoo for all I care--’

Draco gulped heavily at the thought as it danced tantalizingly in his head. Honey Soap. Tangy, sweet, and smooth. Just like Hermione.

Draco did just what Blaise had said- but only because Blaise had suggested it, and because Dracp was willing to give himself any distraction at the moment.

Draco stepped into the hot shower. The down pour of water felt numbingly cold against his skin - better than burning - he thought- almost like he was outside and the cold wind was kissing his cheeks- like he was with Hermione by the Black lake.

Draco shook his head free from the thought. Thinking about Hermione bloody Granger while he was completely bare in the shower drove images in his mind that he was sure would be there forever. He knew if he allowed himself too much time thinking about it he would be seeing her fram, nakes, exposed and under the heavy cold rainfall of the dormitory shower.

And there it was- the image that is- it flooded his mind. Olive skin, crazy curls, a pattern of freckles like stars teasing their way across her collarbones just like he had seen at the exposed parts from her blouse. He raked his hand through his hair, grasping to cause a moment of pain to try and get the images out. It did not work, only making them worse at the idea of a certain witch pulling at his hair instead. The images of soft shoulders and curves. Of course curls are drowned in water, and the scent of her Shampoo.

The sweet scent had already filled the air when Draco had walked into their shared bathroom, and he presumed she had showered earlier in the evening. Another fact not helping his teasing mental images.

Hermione’s smells of honey-soap filled the room, and caused a rush of calamity in his sense, numbing him from the cold of the shpwer, and the pain in his head. The effects of her were almost scary how strong they were.

Her scent, her image, and the feeling of her curl was all it took for Draco’s hand to travel south on himself: the only thing he could hold onto in the moment to provide him with some release through slow jerking.

Draco’s lingering thought remained both teasing and infuriating as he got himself off in the shower to the scent of honey soap. At least Hermione knew nothing - he thought to himself, tugging a sharp jerk of his hand downwards.

It felt more like heaven that he thought possible. More than he thought should be possible even. All to the image of a bushy haired Gryffindor who was curled up in the room next him. None the wiser to her own intoxicating scent.

‘At least Hermione knew nothing’

Except, unknown to Draco Malfoy, Hermione sat wide awake in his armchair, cradling the curl he held in his hands only seconds ago. Very aware that he had come in, caressed her cheek, and let his fingers play with her curl all while she was ‘asleep’.

She hadn’t meant to play a sleeping victim, she was only resting her eyes. But he came in, sounding angry and annoyed. She didn’t want to make it worse, just wanted the world to vanish. Her stress, his stress, everything.

She had argued with Ron and dinner, and she knew if Draco teased her, as he likely would if it was about Weasley, then she would break and scream at him, destroying her voice to take the high road in this situation.

So she laid there, curled in on herself, and hoped he would just go to the warded room where she couldn't hear him punching the wales- that’s what his claim was at least. She had not expected him to loom over her for a few minutes, let alone touch her so gently.

She wasn’t confused, more frustrated with herself for not seeing it sooner. She knew he was stressed, depressed even. That his mind, his family, the voices were driving him to insanity.

She knew that when she was around he seemed to lighten up - though she had chalked that up to the fact that he teased her immensely, and she was simply ‘taking the high road’; by not pushing too far back. Keeping herself light, for both of their sakes.

Letting him trail behind her in the common room as she researched, and asking to go on walks together for both of their sakes.

But Draco Malfoy had come into the common room angry and stressed, she could hear it in his footsteps -loud and quick- then saw her ‘sleeping’ form and softened. It wasn’t a touch for her sake, she knew that much, it was a touch for him.

She may not have known everything, but Hermione knew something.

Draco Malfoy was breaking apart at the seams.


	17. Chapter 17: Rule 3

6th Year, November 15th

The next week couldn't have come sooner for either Draco or Hermione. By Friday afternoon Draco had done his best to successfully avoid Hermione for the whole week, including the weekend in between.

He'd made a lazy excuse to be in the Sltherin dormitories for most of the time, the rest was spent between the Black Lake at midnight, and staining into his own common room when he knew she would be asleep.

Pansy, Theo, and Blaise were more than happy to have him back. Pansy perhaps was the least excited to see him. Instead of pretending to engage in the game of exploding snape blasie, Theo and himself are playing, or laying across his lap like he had hoped she would. Pansy occupied herself with Astoria Greengrass at an adjacent sofa, reading of all things.

Theo had made a snide comment to him about 'longing eyes' when he noticed Draco glancing ever so often in Pansy's direction. Blaise nearly spit out his drink.

Draco had no 'longing eyes' as Theo put it, just an intense burning need to fill his head with images that weren't of a certain brown haired Gryffindor. After the night in the shower Draco found himself going back to the bathroom twice a day just to get himself off and let out some steam- literal steam.

It didn't help that he had continued to use her shampoo, making the bathroom steam up with her scent, and making his release faster. He couldn't stand the chance of running into her and having to talk to her after his showering escapade. Draco though he might pull her in with him on Tuesday when he'd heard her small knock on the bathroom door.

On Wednesday Blaise made another snide comment about Granger's shampoo, apparently he smelt more like honey that he usually did. Draco was quick to confirm that Blaise suggestions had in fact not helped... neglecting to mention that heym ad if influently worse.

By Friday midday Draco thought he had it under control.

His shower that morning was extra long. He let his hand linger downwards at a slower pace, Instead of jerking fast and hard, eager to rid his mind of the temping images he knew he shouldn;t be having. He let himself explore them.

He let his imagination explore wide hips, soft skin, and bushy hair. He let his mind decide that her kiss probably tasted of earl gray tea and sweet honey. But a different honey than her shampoo, instead of warm, sweet and tangy, he thought her taste would be smooth.

He arrived at potions 4 minutes late, disrupting thelession on Polyjuice. He picked up very quickly that the ministry didn't approve of brewing the transformative in class, and instead they would be brewing a strengthening brew. Similar to pepper-up, but specifically used for pulling injured witches and wizards out of magical coma's.

Slughorn had paired him with Aurie for the project. The potion took 5 days of brewing time, ingreatdenhad to be added at various stages, left to settle and ferment. 

Slughorn's bit on "staying together in a time of crisis' meant that no two students from the same house were paired together.

Much to Draco's dismay Aurie Francis was a giggling ball of excitement that morning, lingering over culadresn, and missing the ingredient altogether when she was chopping.

"Hey Hufflepuff! Focus why don't you" he snickered from across the table, attempting to measure out the grey powder.

"Well someone's in a chipper mood this morning" he giggled. She kept giggling laughing at anything anyone said, and for a moment Draco thought to check her for a curse or charm because there was no way someone could be so happy all the damn time.

"I'm not cursed" she laughed loudly.

"I-" Draco started, confused as to how she knew the thought ran through his mind.

"You were speaking out loud. And i'm not cursed, just happy, you should try it" Draco scowled in her direction.

"Not everyone has something to be happy about Francis" she hummed in response. Draco knew full well that his voice was harsh. Perhaps she was as smilrato Lovegood like he had first thought.

"Well I'm sure things will clear up for you shortly" she hummed, moving round the table to his side "now c'mon we have to collect the moss from the lake outside".

Several of the other partners had also disappeared outside, most of them with scowls on their faces that could rival Draco's. Not too many people were particularly impressed with Slughorn's inter house pairings. Wel, except for Blaise who was beaming when he was partnered with Hermione. That fact stung Draco's core, knowing that Blaise knew exactly what Draco was avoiding.

With his luck Blaise was telling her all about the Amortentia, or that he smelled like her shampoo at the breakfast table for the past few days.

Aurie nearly pulled him by the sleeve out of the postios room. Still giggling, though this time it was more to herself than anything.

"What do you think is so funny Hufflepuff?" Draco snared, tugging his arm free from Aurie grasp.

"Surprised she hasn't noticed your staring"

Dumbfounded, Draco stumbled his words slightly. He'd been so careful not to look at her all week, was he really that bad at it?

"I' m not staring at anyone" he sniffled, once the cold air wicked against his skin, focussing him a little more.

"Don't even try, you're looking right at her"

Draco ran his fingers through his hair. Blaise had noticed last week that he was watching her, and now the observant french hufflepuff noticed too. French was generous, her accent had slipped away in the few months she had been there, and now it was a blend of subtle french and heavy english - he wondered if she spend her summer's in England and only went to school in France.

If they noticed did anyone else. Could anyone else see that he was staring at Hermione Granger and he didn't even know it?

"Only the people who watch you can tell, don't worry" Aurie piped up again from beside him.

He thought that perhaps he had spoken out loud again by accident, but his lips were still bound together, chapped and cold. He currently had not been speaking. He looked at her bewildered. She smiled, and knowing that asking erh more questions would result in more giggles, he chalked up her assurance to his nose scrunching up in worry.

He really couldn't stand more giggles right now.

Draco let Aurie be the one to collect the moss samples. It wasn't the grass they needed, it was the bacteria that exited on the moss. Bacteria that absorb the moon's shine was the key ingredient. It had to ferment over the weekend in water before they could add it to the brew.

Blaise and Hermione weren't out by the lake with the other partners, Draco had watched Hermione slip away earlier and supposed Blaise let her fetch it by herself. He smacked his head with his palm. He knew she had left, so he truly had been watching her and he hadn't even realized it.

"You done?" he asked, looking at her shoulder from behind. He saw the slight glow of the tube in her hand, indicating that the mass she had picked up had indeed been subjected to enough moonshine the previous night on the full moon.

Draco wondered monetarily about his mother at the Manor. Greyback was often someone to poke around on orders from the Dark Lord. It was a punishment to his Father for denying Voldemort all those years ago after his initial fall.

During a full moon Draco didn't know if Greback left the Manor, or if his mother had to lock herself upstairs in a tower, or stay locked in her room for own safety. A prisoner in her own home.

"Just about. It wasn't a full moon last night, one day off in fact -" she paused her words, catching her tongue and looking to Draco before containing "- should still be the right amount for absorption for the brew though".

Aurie got up quickly from her kneeling position at the edge of the waters and screwed past him, brushing the side of his robe slightly.

She was odd: he thought. He compared her to Lovegood the first day he saw her chatting away with Hermione and the rest of the golden Gryfinors, like they were old friends.

Odd considering she had transferred from France. Odd considering she was Hufflepuff, though Hermoine was awestruck at the idea of 'house unity'.

She was odd, but this, today, she was borderline invasive. Giggling at everything, even the drearding details of impending doom. Smirking at his claim that he wasn't staring at Hermione; known in the was staring at her meaning sheas watching him, was also odd: he thought.

And answering questions Draco hadn't even asked eyt, or he did ask, just didn't know he had. Draco couldn't tell, it was wholly possible that he had actually said all those things out loud and she was merely responding to him. But he was sure that they had not discussed the fullness of the moon - or she was actually concerned about the potion.

He followed her back into the potions rooms. His eyes glazed over Hermione's figure next to bLaise's leaning over the cauldron. Noticing his stare, Blaise looked up and winked at him.

He went back to the potsos table and concluded the process of processing the moss to be fermented over the weekend.

The weekend: he thought to himself.

He met Amycus Carrow at Hogsmeade, and they would apparate him to the Manor. His Mother had owled him earlier that week as a reminder to bring the jewels, and to dress his best for dinner. He thought that was strange, going for dinner when he wasn't even permitted to leave the castle.

It was supposed to be just information. Information and go. Now this mother had requested his presence for dinner, dressed well, implying company. The idea of the company did not sit well in his head. He had yet to see Voldemort in the flesh; he had received his assignment from Snape before leaving fors school.

It was supposed to be information only, no attachments, and certainly no formal dinners.

That night in the Great Hall Draco did notice that his eyes skimmed over the Gryffindor table. They searched for her, her bushy hair, and wide hips... no.

But she wasn't there. In her spot beside The female Weasley sat Aurie Francis, the giggling Huffelpuss with a book open, but not reading it.

When Draco tore his gaze up form the ugly yellow tie he was met with colourless eyes, silver and gold mixing together, a void of color only light. Aurie didn't budge when she noticed Draco staring. Simply smiled back at him until he turned his eyes away, confused.

That was also odd. Everything about Aurie Francis was odd today.

Without warning the breath left Draco's lungs and he felt the stabbing in head. A jolt of pain hissed behind his ears.

The sound of a snake hissed and echoed in his head, sending shockwaves through his body. He dropped his fork both in shock ,and the needles of pain returned to his fingers, releasing his grasp in the silverware.

With that hand Daco grabbed at his temples, rubbing furiously and wincing slightly under his breath. He tried to do the muggle psychology thing that Granger had said - Focus on something else - or whatever it was.

Focus on breathing.

He tried to. Breathing in and out, but they came out more like gasps and whines and it caught the attention of a few other Slytherins at the unusually full tables.

"Draco, you good? You look like your father's just walked in" Theo chimed from across from him.

Draco didn't look up, not wanting the pittifying or worried look that would greet him. The same one that Hermione would give him if she had seen his freeze up.

"I'm- i'm - he gasped trying to get a word that wasn't straggly out in between pants. He failed miserably, and speaking only worsened the emptoines in his lungs. The muggle thing wasn't working.

"If you say fine I will slap you!" Blaise said sternly from beside him.

Draco smirked. That's something Hermione would say- and do: he thought to himself.

Draco looked up to Blaise before Theo, hoping Blaise would at least try to tease him instead of pity him.He found the look of worry he had desperately tried to avoid on Theo's face. But Blaise's face was worried and confused. Confusion was a look Blaise rarely wore.

He looked to Theo next, finding the expected look. Draco sighed slightly as the pain subsided, easing its way out of his joints, the tingling closing away to a dull numb underneath his skin.

The air also returned to his lungs, and Draco didn't even feel ashamed at the breathy gasp when he was finally caple of a deep inhale.

"Mate what just happened?" Theo looked at him, his fork still had the food on it, and Draco rationalized that Theo had stopped eating when Draco knocked his own fork down, causing the scene at the table.

"Nothing - just a draft, made me cold -" he composed himself, the pain leaving his body, the hissing behind his ears dulling waya.

He felt back to how he was before: it was the fastest he had ever recovered from that. Draco noted that there was only a brief noise that accompanied the pain. No flashback, or unknown moermort, or voice that triggered the pain. Just a brief noise - almost like the persoan was testing something.

Blaised elbowed his side, a familiar gesture, both to tease him, but also to say that he knew something was up. Draco didn't look at him, and instead let his eyes graze over the Great Hall, which was remarkably full for Friday night.

He knew the person in his head was in the castle, Snape and his Mother had almost confirmed the fact. Not to mention they said they would go see him after he was told the truth from his Mother, so they were permitted inside the wards put up by Dumbledore.

Draco doubted it could be a student at first, but if Hermione's theory about Black family children being erased from the tree was to be believed, theni t very well could be.

He found it hard to believe he had a relative within the wall, completely undocmunted and isolated from him. They hadn;t found any records of someone in their current generation. If they existed, there were no slip ups in paperwork, or automatic assignation to the tree.

But if they were a student, then they were lilye there in the room: watching to see if their experiment had a result.

He scanned the hufflepuff table first, nothing out of place. No one looked at him strangely. Then ravenclaw, and still nothing. The only thing out of place were a few younger Slytherins sitting at the long table across the hall.

Then his eyes wandered to the Gryffindor table.

Draco stiffened in his seat, staring at grey and gold.

Aurie Francis was still staring right at him.

***

When Draco burst into the Senior Prefect common room Hermione was in the kitchen making tea.

He hadn't stopped to consider that if she wasn't in the Great Hall, then she was likely in the common room. He was panting again, not from pain, more from confusion: and it caught her attention.

She gave him that look that he dreaded, Pity, worry, fear, directed him and his well being, and she took a step towards him.

He thought she might reach out, hold her arms around him like she had that one night to stop his panting - panic attack was what she called it- and Draco couldn;t decide if that was what he needed.

Her touch. No, that would make everything infinitely worse. Hermione was everywhere, and he made it his own problem by using Shampoo so that her scent was everywhere around him even if she wasn;t around him.

Then a thought struck him. Hermione.

"What do you know about Aurie Franics" he heard his voice deep almost to a growl, the only tone he could master through his heavy breathing and angry rage that spat in him. Anger at what he did not know. Perhaps Hermione for making him a bigger mess by her being here.

"Oh so now you're talking to me?" Hermione's voice was dripped in sarcasm, clearanced at his sudden burst in and demanded he had ignored her all week.

Draco saw the spark in her eyes that had been there the night she had burst into his bedroom and laid down the rules for their cousins. The fire of anger and impulse, that Hermione kept guarded well enough to pack into a box only seconds after it flashed.

She stepped back slightly and plucked the kettles and another teacup. For him. Like she used to when they both woke up with nightmares.

He hadn't seen her awake at night all week .

"Tell me everything you know about Aurie Franics. No skimped details' ' he his voice murmured, almost like he was daring himself to ask the question.

Enough for her thear him though, and to oblige. Exploiting Hermione Granger had always been the plan, it just took more work on his part now to not physically attack her... or her hair.

"She moved from Beabaxtion's, She was sorted into Hufflepuff in private in the Headmaster's office, she's in our potions class" Hermione cocked her head to the side, knowing Draco wanted more than superficial statements he already knew.

Draco watches as her hands prepare his tea. Honey and Milk.

She hadn't given him any answer, just knowledge he already knew, and she knew ath t.Draco saw her head tilt in a teasing manner, and the small smoke that graced her lips when she turned to bring the teacup in her hands.

In a swift motion Draco knocked the teacup down back to the wooden table, spilling the hot contest in a milky puddle on the floor. 

He grabbed her wrist, and whipped her entire body around so fast she had no reaction time, Hermione was now placed between his looming frame and the wall.

She squeaked underneath him, and Draco stopped for only a second, taking in his anger and rash decision, now only focusing on every way her body modeled into his.

This was dangerous.

He had one of her wristed locked above her head, secured there by his own hand. His chest was pressed against her collarbones. Draco's other hand was placed on the wall beside her head, caging her in like an animal that needed to be tamed.

He had to be tamed, he was out of control.

He was touching her, and in a way that drove his brain crazy. If he looked down we were sure he would be able to see right down her blouse...

Her position was too seductive.

He released her wrist and stepped sharply back. The loss of contact made her sumble, and catch balance as he stopped back from her abruptly.

He wasn't done. He needed an answer. He needed to know why Aurie Francis knew to be staring at him from across the hall when he felt the pain and noise in his head. Hermione might have them.

He took one step towards her, enough to make her uncomfortable, but not enough to overload himself with her. Not enough to accidentally look down her shirt.

"I said, tell me everything you know about Aurie Francis"

"I-" she stammered.

He slammed his hand on the wall beside the back of her head. She flinched at the sound of skin hitting stone.

"Now Granger! And don't pretend you know nothing. You two were awfully close on the first day, especially considering she' s transfer form Beuabtaxions, like you just said"

Draco watched Hermione's eyes widened with the realization that he knew she had something to give, osme information to spill. The anger was still in him, but the panting breaths had ceased. It was relapsed with heavy, deep, concentrated breaths - the breaths she had taught him.

She slipped off the wall, brushing his side with her arm as she did. He felt a jolt at the contact. He had been careful to avoid touching her, only when she had grabbed him did he respond by more contact. Any contact was dangerous to him.

Hermione walked over to the armchairs, seating herself in her one, and gesturing for Draco to the same. Her hand modeled around the steaming cup of tea, meant to be his own, but after his uncareful discarding of hers, she claimed it.

He was about to speak again, demand an answer, and if that didn't work, he would yank her off the chair and back to the wall.

"Do you remember Professor Lupin, from the third year?" She asked, he only nodded, confused as to where the werewolf teacher fit into Aurie Francis's story, unless he was her father...

"Well he was a friend of Harry's father, so the two of them have kept in touch"

Really?Potter is in this bloody story. Draco thought that maybe he did need the tea that wa sinitailly ment for him. If anything to stop his tongue from biting an insult at Potter and make Hermione stop her story. Draco nodded again, and she continued.

"Lupin married Nymphadora Tonks, last summer, Aurie is her sister. We met her over the summer when they both visited-"

"-Tonks as in my Estranged cousin. Why wouldn't you say anything? If I'm bloody related to another person that could be important to the family tree you've been building, that we've been building I guess but that's not the point. That could be important all of this, to whoever the hell June and Fire mean!" Draco was screaming, he felt it in his throat she went hoarse and dry.

Draco suddenly remembered that Hermione didn't know about the conversation in the alcove of the castle a week ago. 

The one between his Mother and Snape where they confirmed something was going on, that there potentially was a person in the castle speaking to him, and that they were going to tell him.

She didn't know he was getting an answer.

He had backed off her and her research because he was getting an answer and didn't really need her brain anymore, She was introducing to be around, and if Draco knew the answers were coming either way, he didn't need to tempt himself by being around her.

But that meant she didn't know about the new details, and she didn't like how pieces he found could fit together. Like Aurie being inside the castle, like Aurie being in potions when every attack on his consciousness had happened. Like Snaoe recognizing her the minute she walked into the castle.

Aurie was new. She was odd. She was a development that fit the puzzle that Hermione didn't know the pieces too.

Hermione knew that at least three people talking to him were likely re;ated to him. Fire and June worked together in the other cases of his family tree, it only seemed fitting that the voices also worked together.

"Granger there is another person in the castle who can speak telepathically to me like a Legilimins, except it's worse than a legilimens, and you didn't think to tell me that your new Huffle-buddy could be that person?"

"Draco she's adopted!" Hermione clarified, meeting his tone and standing up to be at his eye level. He hadn't even realised he had stood up. Neither of them sat down, just stared at each other.

The pieces of the puzzle were gone suddenly.

She wasn't related to him, wasn't a missing piece to the Black family tree. She was back to being a strange Hufflepuff who had a staring problem.

Hermione responded to the confused look on Draco's face. 

"Her parents were friends with your Aunt, Andromeda. They died during the first wizarding war, and your Aunt took her in and raised her. Tonks calls her her sister, I think they are really close"

Hermione finished and Draco brushed his hand through his hair again out of habit when he was tense.

"So Aurie Farnics was raised by my estranged Aunt, and is joined at the hip to my estranged cousin? And that means nothing?"

"Yes" she answered his question, not even sure if they were directed at her, or if he even wanted an answer.

"Why Beauxbatons? Why only transfer now?" he glared down at her, expecting for more answers. He needed something, a connection, something about Fire and June.

"I don't know. She never said why over the summer, just that she was transferring to be closer to home. I thought it was the wear coming. She and I wrote over the summer"

"Okay but why Beauxbatons in the first place? If she was living in England, with an English family..." Draco let his eyes meet hers, and he instantly rembed by he was avoiding her.

A mess of dark brown curls circled her face, there were a few loose tendrils from her low bun. He felt his blood rush to gut thinking about pulling her by her bun, yanking the hair loose, and letting his fingers twirl the curls again.

He wanted to do that again.

"Francis was her Mother's last name, her mom went to Beauxbatons, I assumed she went there in the first place because it would bring her closer to her Mother, but I never asked '' 

Despite not having an actual answer, Hermione talked for longer than Draco thought she would have, it snapped his brain out of its trance of looking at her hair, but didnt' stop the heat growing in the appendage in his pants.

"Merlin this is confusing"

"Draco why do you suddenly care about Aurie?"

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest in her usual stubborn stance, that certainly was not better than how she had been standing: he thought. Now her arms compressed her breasts, and he had to stare directly at her face to challenge his brain not to look.

"Because she was bloody staring at me when a hissing whisper hit my head in the Great Hall, the whispers and pain that only come when it's going to be THE voice" He ripped his eyes away from her hair, this time landing them exactly on hers to watch her expression change.

"Well -" she stammered, brown eyes, wide and still in her place, unoving "- that's a development".

A development, yes. But not the missing puzzle piece: he thought.

"She could know something... I guess that would be possible. She did live with your Aunt, she may have heard something or been told about a family curse, or about the children randomly being erased? She could have been watching you and waiting for something to happen for a while"

Draco watched as Hermione clambered for an answer that molded the two parts together.

She was clearly as dumb-founded as he was at Aurie's strange stare across the hall. Draco didn't say anything. He let her verbalize every thought she had, actually listening to everyone in case they had any semblance of reasoning. 

But nothing fit.

"maybe just staring off into space , she does that?"

"You two were partners, she could have been looking for you to give you a signal to talk about the potions?"

"Or Harry or Ron made a joke about you and she was looking over, she sits at the gryffindor table sometimes"

She was walking as fast as her brain was thinking it seemed.

Parts of his brain were working, spinning the wheels and gears of thought. But the other part was still thinking about her hair, and knowing that after this weekend the voices and pain, and fire and june would all make sense. They would make snes but she still wouldn't.

He didn't need to know the answer. He didn't intend to veen ask Hermione again about the research because he knew he was going to be told anyways, and he needed to get away from her to cool his thoughts about her.

But he had ran in, brain on overdrive, panting and longing for her to calm him down again when he thought that she would have the answer again. He always thought that she could have the answer.

He didn't need her to figure it out anymore, but she still wanted her to.

He was about to tell her to let it go. Tell her he must have seen something wrong. After all if Aurie really was involved in this he would find out the next day. But Hermione cut him off before he even could manage a word.

"I could ask her, discreetly?" Her breath was warm against his neck, and it was only when she talked that Draco relaized Hermione had stepped to only a foot away from him, and was looking tah is face questioningly.

"No!" he said, almost a shot, knocking her back a little.

Good: he thought, the further she was the less she invaded his mind. The less a vision of curls would swarm into his head.

"Why not, she could very well know something.. She did live with your Aunt her whole life!" Hermione had regained her footing, now a foot and a half away. She had planted her hands on her hips in a stance of defiance.

Fuck: Draco thought of hips, smooth and soft and bare in the shower.

"Because forget I said anything" he yelled, turning on his heel to head for his door.

"What the hell is wrong you Draco? You ignore me for over a week, come bursting into the room, pin me against the wall" - Draco thought about how close they had been, and winced slightly, knowing her words on my impacted him and were nothing to her.

"- demand knowledge about a classmate, yell at me while denying me help, and now you want me to just leave everything alone. What the hell?"

Hermione had grabbed his wrist again in the process of yelling at him, and he winced again slightly remembering the last time she had done that. The night he had been so panicked that she had her arms around him calming him down, touching him.

Whatever overcame him it was too fast to stop and before he knew it Draco and Hermione pinned against the wall and his chest again, this time incredibly close.

Hermione gave a small squeal as her back pressed into the cold stone walls and her hands raised to fall on his chest. Draco let out an involuntary sign at the ever so slight pressure of her hand on him.

Fuck, what the fuck have I done? He thought to himself.

He knew she could feel it, she had to be able to feel him growing hard in his trousers at the physical contact between them. He had her pissed against the wall, caged inside him with his arms at the side of her head like blinders.

A small giggle form beneath him stopped his breathing. She was laughing? He had her pinned against the wall, caging her in like an animal, with his hot breaths fanning over her, and she was laughing?

The boy Hermione knew very well was capable of insulting her, degrading her blood, had her pissed agiasnt a wall levain Ghar helpless and she was laughing at him. Draco couldn't fina world in which this witch's logical brain would be laughing. Perohis it was a nervous tick?

"You think this is funny Granger? I could throw you at the wall like I do my fists, you think that's funny"

He snarled, trying to sound as menacing as he could, He knew his breaths were too deep and guttural to sound convincing.

But she was so close now and it was messing with his head.

Hermione lifted her gaze from his chest to his face, and Darco swallowed a gulp down her eyes. She was definitely not scared, but he couldn't figure out what she was.

"You could. You could throw me at that wall, slam my head back right here even -" fuck that sounded like fn to him actually, he though qunelety, maknng the blood in his core run deeper down "- but you won't, i don't even believe you punch walls that often"

Hermione shot him a smirk that could rival his own. With her caged in between him, Draco had to stop him diving in right then and there.

His eyes had never left her lips as she spoke, Soft and warm as her breath fanned over his face. He smelt the honey from her tea and her shampoo like a sweet glow around them both.

"And why won't I?" Draco asked, stepping back, finally gaining some sense of awareness and realizing that if Hermione had not noticed the growing rock between them, he had to move before she did.

She didn't make a race for her room, or even move from the wall to get away from him. Just stayed there, his hands placed on the wall behind her head, but his body leaning back away from her. She had more than enough room to escape.

"Because I don't think you want to," she smirked again, and he felt the anger rise in him, Uncontrolled and raw with passion.

Hermione remembered that night only a short week ago in the common room. When Draco had burts him, caressed her cheek so softly and played with her curls. All when he thought she was soundly sleeping in the armchair. The touch was comforting him ,not her in that moment.

Hermione remembered the broken eyes of a boy in pain the night he came back from Borgin and Burkes. He allowed her, the Muggle-born Gryyfinodr to help him, and pry his mind of him and his family. He let her, he asked her to help him.

She was looking at him like he was broken. He hated that look.

"You're helpless. You came to me of all people for help"she showered, her breath still reached his face even after he had stood back.

"I am not helpless" he huffed, stepping closer again, Maybe he would throw her against the wall in the way he had warned before- harsh and painful- not lustful and needy. "You know nothing you filthy little M-" Draco didn;t stop himself, but Hermione did.

"That was rule one" Hermione glared dagger at him, but never moved " Not that breaking that rule would hurt me in any way, it's just a word after all"

There they were. In the Senior Prefect common room, Draco Malfoy pinning Hermione Granger against the wall, and them staring daggers at each other. Hermione still not moving from him after threats and attempted insults, and Draco desperate for her to leave.

"You're desperate if you came to me for help-"

"Watch your words! I will not hesitate to throw you on the wall Granger". They both knew he wouldn't.

Hermione reached up and grabbed his left arm, pulling the fabric of his white linen school shirt uo. Draco didn;t have time to react, with all her sudden movements that night he was sure she had casted a speed chrome herself at some point in the evening. He had no time to stop her from removing the material.

It only revealed blank, snow-white skin. Unmarked by even a scar from childhood.

Hermione didn't even blink. He expected her to think there was a black tattoo withering up his left forearm. But she only smirked in triumph, like she had won something because he hadn't completed his mission yet.

"You don't want to do anything. If you did, There would be something here"

Hermione didn't wait for an answer. Just untangled herself from the wall and made a pace for her room.

Draco was left with one arm on the stone, and the other in front of him with his sleeve rolled up where a dark mark should have been.

***

6th Year, November 16th

"Stupids gits boys are"

The sound of the common room door shocked Draco awake. He had a kink in his neck from falling asleep in the armchairs the night before. Draco never went back to his room after Hmerione had stormed off at the right moment.

Had she waited perhaps a second more Draco knew he would have done something stupid and careless, and it likely wold have resulted in her slapping him.

With groggy eyes he noticed Hermione threw a book down to the carpet in a thrash of anger.

Oh it was bad: he thought, Hermione Granger defiled a book on purpose, it was bad.

When his eyes came into focus he saw her with white knuckles gripping the wooden table in the kitchen. Her face was flushed a crimson red, and Draco had to admit it was a lovely colour against her olive cheeks.

"Did Weasley forget an anniversary or something Granger?" he teased, walking over hesitantly to the firestorm of an angry witch at the other end of the room.

"Very funny... Ron caught Harry checking out Ginny's ass, and now Harry has a split lip in the infirmary after Dean overheard Ron's comment to Harry. And on top of that.."

"That's a lot of people Granger, slow down" he laughed now across from her at the other end of the table. Her knuckles were still white as she gripped the table at her hips.

"well , as it might interest you. Harry was going on about how he's certain you have the Dark Mark - called me idiotic for thinking otherwise actually" she smoked, and Draco watched her grip loosen on the table.

He remembered her triumphant face when she yanked the sleeve of his shirt up the night before. The happy smirk that brightened her features when she had been proved white with his blank skin.

"Well you have an extra quill? I'm sure I can draw one on, if it will please them?" He had truly meant it as a tease. But the fire that flashed in her eyes at his words meant it had not been taken as such.

Draco Malfoy was unusually bright that morning. Despite an abrupt wake up call, and neck pain from his unfortunate sleeping arrangements. He knew today would hold answers, in just a few hours he'd be apparent to the Malfoy Manor and given the details of his family secrets.

But the furious witch in front of him held his perplexed gaze. That was something Hmerione Granger was particularly good at: making him confused.

"Do you really not care if people think you've taken the mark of a Dark Wizard's cult?" Hermione yelled,, and Draco knew her knuckles had whitened as her grip regained against the table. She would likely have splinters if she continued with that amount of pressure.

"Not generally Granger, as I see it you've been calling me a ferret for the past two years , you really need battery insults. C'mon Git? Ferret? You can do better than that" His tease only worsened her anger and she had run off the table to be right in front of him.

His lack of shower that morning meant her scent had not been filled in his senses. She was in front of him now and her scent overwhelmed him. Warm, intoxicating, calm.

"How could you not care?" she yelled, pushing his chest, he didn't move. "You've got to care about something, you think it's all funny to go around calling me Mudblood for years, joke about war, and joke about branding yourself with the mark your father's cult?"

Draco had only heard Hermione refer to herself as that a handful of times. 

The slur he had grownup calling her sounded strange falling from her lips, like she was using his own insult against him. It didn't affect her, and he guessed that was all that changed, Hermione didn't care about a word, she never really had.

When Hermione took a step forward Draco took a step back. They kept that until Draco's back was now against the wall. She smirked at him.

"Hmm, guess you're not as scary as you think you are, pushed against the wall by the filthy little Mudblood"

When she said the word again Draco grabbed both of her wrists and turned them both. 

Hermione's back fell against the stone again, and Draco knew the way she was against him was more than enough to send the wave of blood inside him rushing downwards.

Hermione didn't make a sound, just leaned her back back and accepted the change with a smirk.

"This what you wanted? Wanted me to prove to you that I could take the mark? That I'm capable of those actions?" he asked, looking down.

He did indeed see down her shirt, but instead of finding a breast clad in a cotton bra like he expected, like Pansy wore, he found a plain white tank top underneath her blouse.

"I am very aware that you are capable of this... " Hermione gestured up and down at their position against the wall "... but you're not capable of more"

"Wanna bet?"

Draco stared at her face, but not at her eyes where he had invented. Instead they landed flat on her lips and he gulped down releasing where he was staring.

In everything he had images about her, her lips were always where he never knew what to think about. He thought they would be soft and warm, and likely taste of honey and earl grey morning tea. He could smell her morning tea on her breath.

He couldn't look away.

Everything was supposed to make snes after today. The Voice, The family tree, fire, and june, and the secret of his mother. Everything Would fall into place today except for her and the damn Amortentia.

His eyes were still fixated on her lips, and he didn't notice her straighten herle komplety to be standing with her head cokced up to match the nagle at which his loomed down over hers.

It should all make sense after today. But she would't make sense. 

The smell of honey soap, the images of hips in the shower, the feel of arms around his back, and the taste of earl grey would not make sense after the Manor.

His eyes flickered up to hers before they locked again on her lips. Soft and still warm from her tea: he thought.

He heard Blaise's voice in his head again - apparently that advice stuck out amongst every comment that boy had ever made. - do something, kiss her -.

"Granger..." He breathed, she didn't respond "... I'm about to break rule number three"

Without a second of hesitation, Draco leaned down and did the incredibly stupid thing that should surely get him slapped.

Draco kissed her.


	18. Chapter 18: Katie Bell

6th Year, November 16th

Draco stood there with his unmoving lips pressed against Hermione, he raised his right hand to cup her cheek, an action he didn’t think through before he did it. Hermione was stoic against him, she didn;t move her lips to his, and she didn’t move away.

She was as warm as he expected, but not as soft. In all the time he had thought of Hermione Granger while he was in the shower he he always thought she would be softer than clouds. Instead she was lighter than air, and seemed frail and small under his looming figure.

His entire body blanketed hers against the wall, every part except his hips. The bulge that had grown there would have been dteble by her if he moved any closer, and even in his rushed state he knew better than to edge that on her.

He hadn’t even moved his lips from where they pressed against hers when realization dawned on him. He pushed away from her, dropping the hand that was resting against her cheek and jaw to his side. Stepping back, gasping at himself and his lack of self control.

He snapped back to himself instantly, and looked down at Hermione. She had closed her eyes, and he watched her slowly open them wide and shocked. She still didn;t try to make a run for it, so he did.

Knowing if he stayed wrapped up in her intoxicating scent and physical pressure against him he would do it again, or worse, press his whole body to hers and let her feel the bump at his hips.

Hermione just stared at him, eyes wide, hands glued to the wall along with the rest of her body.

“I- '' Draco started, getting slightly lost looking at her, the warm pressure dsilving from his lips and body as he fully stepped out of her breath space. “I - I have to go”

Draco stepped back from her, and that’s when Hermione made her first discernable movement. Hermione reached her hands up and brushed her fingertips along where his lips had just been. It was slight, but Draco saw it even as he turned around and headed for the door, deciding that he was going to Hogsmeade early.

He remembered the package of jewels he was to return to the Manor - “Accio robes, accio package on bed” - the parchment wrapped package and note flew into his arms as he reared the door to the common room. He left Hermione still backed against the wall with her fingertips grazing over her own lips in shock.

Out of the portrait door, Draco fingers followed a similar action to hermiones. His fingers grazed his lips in a featherlight touch, careful not to press and erase the feeling of her against him. The kiss hadn’t been long enough, nor deep enough to taste her lips. 

He was left wondering if his suspicions of earl gray tea and honey were right - an incessant thought that only seemed magnified by his actions.

He refrained from pulling at his hair, remembering how the images of her hips and hands in his head only intensified whenever he did that. 

He thought he had it under control...Staying away from her at least meant that he couldn’t act on it. But her prompting pushed him over. The way she put her hands on her hips, her biting her lip when he pushed her harshly at the wall. She was so certain he wouldn't hurt her… and that only made his resolve break further.

Deposit his best efforts to distinct himself from her, and make her want to stay away she couldn’t. He couldn't either. For Merlin’s sake he’d been showering with her shampoo: if she hand't smelt it on him, she would have at least noticed it was running out faster than usual.

Today was supposed to bring answers to all his problems, but he had started the data creating a host of new problems to the one thing he wouldn’t be gettin answers about.

“Why would you do that?” Draco whispered to himself, tucking the package under his robes that were now draped over his broad shoulder.

“Why would you do what?” He heard Theo’s voice from behind him. Draco gave off a sound that almost matched a grunt. Of course Theo was there to joke about whatever he could get his hands on.

He had managed to escape Theo’s eternally joking behavior for the past several weeks. That was unless Draco was in the Slytherin Common Room: then Theo pestered him about his gloomy attitude, and the fact that even Pansy had stopped fawning over him. Apparently Pansy’s lack of interest in him cemented the idea in Thoe’s skull that there was something seriously wrong with him if even she was bored.

There was indeed something wrong with him now. He had kissed Hermione Granger, and Theo had caught him disciplining himself for it.

Draco didn’t stop walking through. He presented not to hear Theo’s calls from him or his footsteps rapidly gaining behind him.

“Woah there Mr grumps, what did you do? Make Grainger Hex herself in frustration? Don’t worry I’m sure the dumbass duo won’t actually kill you for that”

Draco breathed a sigh, knowing he could play along to one of Theo’s jokes.

“Didn’t hex her, just freaked her out by pushing her against the wall”

“Okay that’s not so bad, unless she tells McGonagell then you’re fucked” Theo laughed, slinging an arm around Draco’s shoulders. Theo wasn’t considerably shorter than Draco, causing his outstretched arm to be unfrotobale for the both of them.

Draco shoved him off, annoyed and relieved that Theo wouldn’t try and figure it out further. He smirked agility in his direction, trying to get him to leave so he could wallw in his decisions for a moment in peace.

“Are you going to Hogsmeade today?” Theo chimed, not taking Draco hint that he wanted him to leave him alone.

Draco wasn’t allowed to tell anyone where he was going. Both in part because as Senior Prefect we had not permitted the leave the grounds, but also because Snape had made it clear that his visit to the Manor was happening while it was vacant from Death Eaters.

“No, just walking on the grounds. I’m not allowed to go” Draco spoke, still the tinge of annoyance was evident in his voice.

“Awww Draco gonna wallow in the fact that Pansy’s moved on from him?” Theo was not taking the hint. Draco didn't care about Pansy’s lack of interest in him, though he hadn't noticed her ‘move on’ to anyone else.

“What are you getting at Nott?” he kept walking as he spoke, tucking the package further into his side to make sure Theo wouldn’t accidentally see it and ask him questions. He was almost as relentless with questions than Hermione was.

No… he was trying not to think about her, at least until Theo left.

“Oh ... Pans has been eyeing up every boy above fourth year all week. At first I thought it was an act to get your attention, but you couldn't care less it seems.” so she hand't moved on, not really. 

“And you think I care because?” Draco raked a hand through his air in his nervousness, Theo gave a small sigh that gave away everything.

Draco knew Theodore nott had been hopelessly in love in his childhood. In the way that he and Blaise had grown up with each other because of their parents; the Parkinson’s and Naught's had grown up very close. Theo had known her from birth, and one night - slightly tipsy- at the Manor, Theo had let it slip that he was jealous that Pansy pined over Draco.

He hadn’t brought it up since, even spent most of his time teasing Draco that Pansy was constantly waiting for him. Perhaps it was a nervous or jealous tendency, to deflect from himself. This prior engagement made Theo’s next question at least somewhat expected.

“You think she’d fancy me?” He asks, his gaze dropping low in embarrassment, his face flashing furiously. Draco had rarely seen that on him, and he hadn to bite his tongue not to laugh right in his face.

“I think she’d fancy anyone who gave her enough attention Nott” Thep Glared at his words. “Alright … fine… Perhaps… You said it yourself I couldn’t care less about her. I haven’t got a clue about who’d she fancy '' Draco lagged under her breath, still trying not to laugh at Thoe’s underlying crush on Pansy.

“Fair enough…” Theo finally stopped walking in tandem with Draco’s strides, Draco kept walking hoping it mant Theo was finally leaving. “... see you Mr Gloomy” He laughed, some of the light returning after his embarrassment.

Draco twinged a smile and called back, not turning around “I wasn’t lying about the attention thing, shower her with it and she’ll be happy Nott”

***

Hermione stood against the stonewall of the common room, shell shocked to say the least. She hadn't realized that her fingertips had come up to touch her lips until the stall figure of Draco had fled from the room through the portrait, mumbling something about needing to leave and summoning his robes and a package.

She wanted to move, couldn't wasn’t even the words. She didn't have her legs to give out and did not have the wall to catch her fall. Her head was spinning with thoughts and questions: some she could answer, and other wishes left her more confused.

What had just happened? He kissed you. Why would he do that? I don’t know, maybe he was trying to shut you up. Did I edge him on? Yes, but that was the point, you were made at him for not caring about people thinking he was a death eater.

It took everything in Hermione to push herself off the wall with her hands, and walk breathlessly over to the window seat between their two rooms. She liked that spot. The sky showed through it at the perfect time, right when she got off clases and could sit and bask in the sunlight. At night she had the perfect view of the moonglow over the Black Lake. It was a breathtaking sight, and a welcomed one at that compared to the images that flooded her dreams.

Draco sometimes sat across from her in silence, sipping the teas she made for them both. She didn't know when he had started doing that - making two cups on instinct - she just did, nticating is sleepless nights and raspy voice. 

Hermione never heard him screaming in his sleep, but hit a hoarse voice whenever he emerged from his room and gave it up to her: he screamed from the nightmares.

She truly felt for him and all the pain she had witnessed him suffer. So much pain and he hadn;t broken yet, he had no mark on his left forearm. It bugged her that he was indifferent to people’s perception of him, how could he not care that people thought he had joined that cult?

She had meant to edge him on… to get a reaction from him after he'd ignored for over a week. It had worked,just not how she had expected it to. She guessed he would break down after his moment of weakness when he touched her curl, but instead he turned violent and pushed her against the wall - only confusing her.

Then he kissed her.

She hadn't been expecting that. Not in any capacity.

It wasn’t rough, or hard, or mean or anything she would have guessed it would be. Not that she had spent a great deal of time thinking about what it would be to kiss him.

But he simply pressed gentle lips against her, then pulled away and ran off looking ashamed of himself. She had imagined she would be rough and demanding. She had caught him many times in corners with Parkinson the previous year looking like he was about to eat her lips, he was so aggressive.

But he was anything but. He was soft and firm, and a strong pressure against her whole body as he loomed over. He was so much taller and broader up close. The kind of tall that meant he was literally hunching down to bring his lips to her, the kind of tall she gasped at in the hallways sometimes when she saw his shoulder take up the entity of broom closet doors.

His entire frame bent over her and she couldn't move, couldn't speak, and couldn't breath as he pressed into her, and pressed away quickly.

He kissed her.

She should have run away… or slapped him. That was the logical side of her brain thinking, but she hadn't wanted to. She saw how broken he was, and he smelled like her shampoo, and she was instantly drawn in and frozen in her place.

You didn’t kiss him back: she thought to herself. She should have.

Even if it meant nothing to him, she should have. Even if it was only to calm him down.

From the window she could see his blond hair moving across the ground from her window. He was going towards the Black Lake and she couldn't help but look on and watch, hoping to catch some other reaction from him.

He didn’t do anything. Just knelt down by the water for a few seconds before getting up again and walking towards the castle. She thought for a second that he would come back, explain himself - or more lily excuse himself - but he never did, and she kept staring out the window.

She couldn't escape to Hogsmeade with Harry and Ron, restrictions of her position that McGonagell wouldn't even let her argue, despite her many attempts.

A knock at the portrait snapped her out of her internal monologue.

That was strange - the wards should have stopped anyone from touching the portrait or the frame.

No one ever tried to knock, McGonagell had made the wards clear to her and Draco, and they relayed the information to their friends. Beside that, the location of their common room wasn’t common knowledge to the lower years, and aynonye older knew better than to try with wards

Hermione moved through the common room unsteadily, catching herself on the kittenchet table for a moment.

The person knocked again at the length of time it was taking for Hermione to answer the door. She couldn’t help that her knees were weak, something about Draco’s gentle touch of her cheek in stark comparison to his looming figure made her physically uneasy.

How someone so harsh and demanding could be so soft and tender: yes, Draco Malfoy truly had gone mad.

Hermione Opened the door to see Aurie Francis with her hand pressed to the stone beside the portrait. That must have been how she got around the wards: she thought, she had knocked on the stone.

“Hi Hermione! Draco here?” she squeaky, rather excitedly, blissfully unaware of Hermione stumbling actions as Hermione braced her hand against the arched doorway.

“No … um .. he went for a walk” Hermione managed to stammer out, her voice clearly flustered and shaky.

That was when Aurie finally noticed Hermione’s awkward leaning on the doorway and the slight fluch of her cheeks. She looked thoroughly shocked.

“You alright Hermione? You look a little pale and hot?” She asked, eyebrows raising up and nose scrunching in question.

“I’m fine Aurie” Hermione managed to steady her voice “You need anything I can help with?”

Aurie looked down at the ground slightly and Hermione wondered then if she had touched a nerve. Perhaps she had misread the situation with Draco and Aure was here for him in that sense, and that's why he ran away. Guilty conscious of cheating.

Aurie quikly met Hermione’s eyes and smiled brightly. If she was here for that she clearly didn’t think anything just happened.

“Oh, um. No.” she smiled looking at Hermione, eyes flashing, and a small smirk quirking from her smile.

“Aurie are you and Draco together?” Hermione couldn't help the question come from her lips. If they were, Aurie deserved the truth about what had just happened.

“What? No- ew” Aurie quickly shut her down, bringing her hands up to her mound as if signaling she was repressing a gag. “Sorry .. just .. just no Hermione”

“Alright, Yeah I can tell him you came by when he gets back. Though you might have better luck roaming the grounds looking for him. I doubt he’ll be back soon, he was in a rush to get out”

“I have a suspicion he’ll be back in the common room before I find him on the ground Hermione'' Aurie google , the same giggle she had in the Potions classroom the other day. 

Hermione let out a genuine smile at the witch in front of her.

Hmerione didn’t know how to respond to that. Susionions he would be back in the common room? If only she knew why he had left so quickly. Hermione was half convinced Draco wouldn't be back until he next morning, either by sleeping in the Slytherin Common room, or coming in so late that she was already asleep.

Thankfully for Hermione, Aurie spoke up before she would be forced to say anything.

“Are you going to Hogsmeede Hermione?” She wished.

“Not allowed-”

Aurie cut her off “- Me Neither, no parental permission slip for me. C’mon at least get out of your common room, we can look for Mr Grumpy together”

Hermione smiled at Aurie’s nickname for Draco - If only she knew jsu how grumpy he’d been. He usually just lashed out and didn't completely ignore her, something was up. Well, he did kiss her and that was uncharacteristic. Or characteristic if she thought about it - he liked messing with people's heads.

She had started to compile various theories about him in the week he had essentially disappeared from the common room. Mostly just him spending time in Slytherin, but at the very bottom of her list was that Draco Malfoy had potentially gone soft. Highly unlikely, she had to tell herself.

Though now the possibility seemed more plausible.

“Accio robes” Hermione Smiled, bundling up in them as she stepped out of the portrait frame. She regained most of her footing as the feel of Draco’s lips erased from her own, a fact she wasn’t pleased with.

“I’m not sure ‘Mr Grumpy’ would like to see me, but I will gladly leave the room” she replied with the nickname, raising her hands to the quiations with her fingers the way muggles did.

Aurie simply slipped her arm unto Hermiones and gestured her forwards and out of the castle corridors.

“Oh trust me, He’ll be glad to see you”

***

Draco had made his way through Hogsmeade undetected by other students. His black suit caused him to blend in woy the non-student population. He had the parchment wrapped package containing his mother’s jewels slip from under his robes to be visible. It made him look like he had purpose, instead of just idli in walking.

The jewels were double rapped by silk and then parchment. Draco had neer considered the complexity of erasing an Heirloom Curse from an object, and so his mother’s jewels still nore the curse that was intended for his Headmaster.

Drac slipped into the Leaky Cauldron and headed for the back room, beside the loo on the left. It was a private dining that his Father often requested, the only room besides the loo that had closing doors to hide the person awaiting him, and their apparition to leave.

He passed a head of ginger and black, noting that Weasley and Potter had come to Hogsemede by themselves. He was surprised the two of them managed to do anything without hermione.

No, don’t think about her: he thought to himself.

He kept his head down, rearing the corner almost reaching the private room where Amatycus Caroow awaited him. He knocked on the wooden door once, receiving a hollow echo.

He got no response. He knocked again and it yielded the same result. Draco opened the door suddenly to reveal an empty room.

The circular table looked freshly clean, and there wasn’t a chair out of place. He scrunched his nose on the question, had they not come? Had he missed a letter telling him of an alternate location?

He took a step forward thinking that there were wards that separate the doorway, and posited an extra pro-action for letting known death eaters out in such a public place - he still saw nothing.

He turned around heading out and was met with the confused face of Katie Bell.

Shit: he thought. He’d blown his cover. No one has to know he had left the castle. Worse the package was displayed in his hands, fully open for her to question. And surely the Gryffindor chaser would.

“Malfoy? You aren’t supposed to be out of the castle” she asked shocked, looking down at the package in hisbleft hand. “What's that?” her head tilted sideways.

Shit, she’d seen it. He had to make something up to distract her and slip away.

He thought for a second that he could just tell her to bugger off. But Potter and Weasley were in the building. No doubt she’d go and tell her Gryffindor companaigns he’d been out of the castle and the duo would instantly rat him to McGonagell.

No he couldn't play that card, he had to play a sodding victim. Gryffindors were particularly drawn to pity, sympathy and mockery. If he sounded apologetic for something she’d tease him for it then sodd away.

“Package from Mother. A gift to Dumbledore for the hardships our family has caused Hogwarts in the past'' he tried his best to give an empathetic and apologetic smile. It must have worked because Katie’s face softened, and Draco was struck with another idea.

“Katie” he used her first name “ Would you deliver the package to the Headmaster? You’re right, I’m not supposed to be off the grounds and I’d rather not be punished for trying to do some good.”

Draco could tell by her face that she had bought it. By no apparent reason to him why, but she had.

Amatycus had not come to collect him at the Manor, another uncertainty to add to his growing list. Drcao decided that the cursed jewels in the package could at least do some good if they went to his Headmaster. Offing the old wizard would mean he would instantly be summoned to the Manor and Snape would escort him. At least then he could get some answers, and get his mission done.

“Yes, of course. “ Katie smiled “ Gotta say Malfoy, you turning over a new leaf is quite impressive”

Draco had to suppress a frown: he was certainly not doing that. He reached the package out to Kate, the letter with the manor's address visible - at least his story was believable to Katie’s eyes. 

She took it and whipped around for the door. Draco followed close behind as another gryffindor he had never learned the name of joined her. He watched Kate speaking - assuming she was explaining where she was going, and the two watched excitedly with three broomsticks.

He followed them still, wanting to make sure Katie never opened the package.

He had not explicitly told her not too, one of his many faults of the day. 

But telling a Gryffindor not to do something usually ended with that exact thing happening. He favoured following behind, hidden behind buildings instead, just in case she tried.

“C’mon Ron, Mione’s probably bored out of her mind in the Prefect’s room” Draco’s attention was monetarily pulled from Katie at the sound of Porter's voice behind him.

“Yeah yeah, she’s probably got McLaggen over bet you” Ron teased, obviously annoyed. Draco ignores his confusion. At least that answered if she and Ron are together: he thought.

Stop that: he told himself. No thinking about her, not about her hair, or her scent , or her lips, and certainly not thinking about her with other people! Stop that!

“Blimey” Ron’s gasp caught Draco's attention followed by Potter’s.

“Katie?” Harry gasped, and Draco turned his head from where he had stopped his attention on Katie and the package he had given her to deliver.

Draco’s last minute plan had gone Completely Haywire and Katie Bell was suspended several feet above the air, mouth opening a silent scream, and the open package of his mother jewels at her feet.

He stood there stunned a moment, unable to move his feat and his breathing picking up. This was bad: he thought. He should have just left, told Katie to piss off in that moment and let himself get detention, instead of him surely likely to be expelled for this.

Cursing another student with a package intended for one’s Headmaster didn’t seem like it would yield only a detention for punishment.

He whipped behind whatever shop he was suited hiding at and raced for the school’s grounds. It was the only thing he could think of, to be in the grounds when Potter and Weasel brought her back like they were heroes. If he could be in the grounds then he could try to deflect blame.

He wanted to run to apparte to the Manor, demand why a Carrow hadn’t shown, why his questions seemed to be destined to remain unanswered.

Everything was a question now, his whole life was in question now.

He ran past the students, not caring if they recognized him, or saw the tension placed on his face as he tried to control his rapid breathing.

He ran and the world got blurry around him. It spun, like it spun in his bedroom when he woke up from the voice. Noise was drowned out by the buzzing in his years and the raps succession of his heartbeat as his breathing went out of control.

Draco ran past Honeydukes and took the path that connected the village to the grounds, over the bridge in the shallow part of the lake, past the shrieking shack and over to where the whomping willow was situated at the Black Lake.

He frowned when two people were in the past he usually sat by the Lake, or stood with Hmerione on cold nights. He got more panicked when he recognized the brown and blond heads as Hermione and Aurie.

Both of whom were now looking at him like he’d seen a ghost, or like they were seeing a ghost. 

His panicked expression and mind has caused all the blood to rush from his face leaving him pale and void.

“Jeez, I knew you’d be shocked but I figured Hermione and you had worked most of it out” 

Aurie's voice flooded his ears and he was knocked out of whatever he was experiencing - a panic attack was what Hermione called it.

“What?” he gasped, now noticing that Hmerione wore a similar shocked expression to him and was looking at Aurie questioningly.

“Oh come on now you know. They told you?” She questioned, raising her hand like she was going to pass his shoulder.

Draco’s head swam with more questions. Hermione followed in a similar drowning as they both looked at the short witch in front of them, who was dressed in muggle clothes.

“Who told me what Francis? What are you playing at?” he asked.

Aurie’s eyes went wide, and she took a step back, draining gher hand with her.

“They didn? Did you g-” Aurie stopped herself, leaving Draco angry for answers.

“You know Francis I’m getting real tired of people not telling me things!” he surged forward, taking Aurie wrists in his, Shaking her whole body as she did so.

Draco vaguely registered Hermue’s touch on his shoulder as she tied to pull him back. It was like electronic jets moved through his body as he remembered his small self against him only hours ago in the common room against the wall.

“Malfoy what the hell?” Hermione screamed, Draco felt a pang in his chest at her words.

She hadn't called him Malfoy since the first few weeks in the common room. It had been Draco since then.

“- they -were - you -were- supposed to be - did you go?” Aurie squeaked in his grasp.

She was looking at an absolutely furious Draco Malfoy. Teeth bared in anger and frustration, all of which written plainly across his face and body language he furiously stood over her, ignoring the spark at Hermione's pull on his arms.

“MALFOY” Hermione screamed again, this time his grip on Aurie’s wrists loosened and she slipped out, back crashing into the ground as she fell.

“Go where?” The voice was less harsh now, pleading even, and Hmerione rushed to Aurie's side helping her up. He heard her mumble an ‘i’m fine’ before he asked again.

“Go where Francis?”

“You didn’t - so -so - nevermind” she gasped at him, eyes wide with realization that he clearly had no idea what she was talking about.

Draco huffed in furtsion. He was sick of no one telling him anything. The voice. His mother. Snape. He hadn't even heard from his father while he was away, he knew what they thought he should know. And now he woulndt even be getting the answer he had been promised today.

No he would. He had to now, it was too complicated now to go back to the common room with Hermione as she stared at him. A mixture of confusion and horror plastered across her face as she looked at him.

He needed answers, and he needed them today. Now.

He turned swiftly and back on the path out of the castle grounds to apparate to Malfoy Manor. He’d apparated alone a few times, he didn;t need a Carrow to show him to his own home.

The only reason they were there was to ensure he brought the jewels, and that had gone out the window when Katie Bell was cursed on accident. Yet another issue he needed to address, more questions.

He stepped through the threshold of the wards, feeling the ripplin beside him that he ignored when he had entered them. Not painful, just ucnomrbtale, enough to let you know you were out of the magic’s reach.

He took out his wand - he had not yet mastered wandless apparition - as he did he felt Hermione’s mall, soft hand grab his wrist, knowing it was her by the shock it sent his system into.

“Wait, what’s happening? Why did you leave the grounds?” She asked, and Draco realized that only her arm was out of the wards, even though she wasn’t willing to break McGonagell’s rule for the Senior Prefect. 

How usual of her: he thought.

“Off Granger, I have somewhere to be” she shrugged her off, yanking his arm out of her gras harshly as to stop himself from giving in to her touch. The touch he craved to have gained back, but knew she would avoid.

“Stop it, you could splinch apparating even close to wards” she protested, Draco didn’t look at her as he raised his wand to apparate.

He turned his shoulder in the appropriate motion and got the familiar coating feeling with appreciation. A push of smoke engulfed his vision as he did the wand movements and thought of Malfoy Manor as his intended location.

At the last scene he felt his wrist with small, rough hands enclose his wrist. It wasn’t Hermione’s touch, he knew that.

As Draco appointed, Aurie grabbed his wirts in an attempt to stop him, failing to do so and apparating alongside him. They left Hermione standing in the snow, wide-eyed and worried, staring at their footprints.

***

When Draco’s feet hit the marble floors of Malfoy Manor he was not expecting to hear a second set of feet also hit them. Furthermore, he was not expecting that second person to be fully intact.

He felt Aurie grab his warts and expected her to release when she realised how close he was to apparating away, when he felt her grip tightened he fully expected to land next to a splinched body in the Manor floors. If not from apparating, but from trying to impede on the wards put up around the estate.

But Aurie landed completely unharmed, and on her feet beside him nonetheless. Explaining a splinched body would have been easier than explaining a fully intact female witch who appeared randomly in the Manor, in muggle clothes too.

Fuck up number I’ve lost count today: he though to himself grouching and lookin at her.

Aurie looked terrier where they landed, she had tightened her hand impossibly tight around his wrist, her nails sinking into the flesh at his palm.

“What the fuck Francis” he growloed, at a whisper level of sound.

It was possible the Manor was crawling in Death Eaters. If no one had come to retrieve him, then it was likely the rest of the plan had also changed, and there were more people in the estate than expected.

“I thought you would stop-'' she shuddered, looking over her shoulder in the entry room he had apparently to. Her eyes landed on the family portari of himself and his parents that was done when he was quite young. Three if he remembered correctly, her eyes went impossibly wider.

“I thought you would let go--” he whispers back, yanking her behind him as he heard footsteps approaching. They grew louder, and the sound of his mothers heels clicking as they hit the marble rang in the room.

“This is going to end horribly” he whispered.

“Draco” his mother called… “Draco you weren’t supposed to come. I just sent an owl explaining… the other person I needed here didn’t show… It would be much -'' His mother’s voice stopped automatically when she laid eyes on the part of them in the entryway.

Draco took a breath and tried to explain

“Mother, apologies. Miss Francis here grabbed me as I appeared. I will see her out and come back” He took his formal tone that he was raised to. Gentleman-ly and kind as he looked at his mother.

Narcissa Malfoy did not look at her son as he spoke. Her eyes were fixed on the girl beside him, taking her in. Draco felt Aurie shift beside him under his mother's gaze, and snuck a look at her to see her lips pursed together and her stifle a gasp.

She too was wide eyed as she stared back at his mother.

Draco saw something else in Aurie’s eyes. A swift change in their color. The usual grey was replaced in a flash of gold before disappearing again.

“Mother?” he questioned, looking between the two females who seemed to be nagging on the oddest staring contest he’d ever witnessed, the tension that had built in the room was monumental.

She didn’t address him. Narcissa took another step forward, Aurie adjusted beside him, standing with her shoulders back and head held high - an odd stance he’d never seen her take. She usually was relaxed and soft, not stiff in posture. She looked trained.

He heard the faintest gasp form his mother before she spoke.

Draco’s eyebrows shot up, nose scrunching like he always did when yet another puzzle was thrusted into his life. He Cracked his head to look directly at her now, her eyes were almost void of emotions as she stared back at Narcissa.

“Aurora?” she gasped, eyes roaming at the girl beside him.

At his side Aurie, nodded slightly in Narcissa’s direction and smiled coldly before responding.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Mother”


	19. Chapter Nineteen: The Black Family Tree

6th Year, November 16th

***

“Aurora?” she gasped, eyes roaming at the girl beside him.

At his side Aurie, nodded slightly in Narcissa’s direction and smiled coldly before responding.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Mother”

***

Draco’s jaw just about hit the floor at Aurie’s words.

“I’m sorry what the fuck?” he yelled into the room ,no texactly direction at either of them, just the universe in general. Aurie was still beside him, but now her eyes were fixed on him.

He watched her mouth “i’m sorry” in his direction before he looked back to his mother.

“You're lying. I’ve seen those family trees -”

“With Miss Granger, I’m aware of Draco. I was very careful when removing her from the records, for both of your safety’s”

“Safety? Mother what the hell could a secret sibling be dangerous for? What the hell is going on?” he wasn't yelling anymore, but he was still loud, head filled with questions and rage.

Blindsided by lies, he was too confused to even panic. He was simply horrified at his Mother’s revelation.. He turned to Aurie - “How long have you known?”

She took a step back and closed her eyes, Draco surged forward grabbing at her wrists again.

“Draco no, release her!” his mother came to focus as she placed a hand on his shoulder. The same spot that Hermione had in her attempt to get him to release Aurie a short while ago.

“Stop”

The voice in his head shocked him off her, releasing her wristed harshly as she stumbled backwards.

It was her voice.

His mother wasn’t lying.

Aurie took a very deep breath before opening her eyes again, the flash of gold that he saw returned before it vanished under her eyelashes.

Strange: he thought, as he shrugged off his mother’s gentle touch between his shoulder blades.

“Why don’t we go to the drawing room. I’ll call for Severus and say you’ve made your way here” for the first time since he had arrived his mother was only looking at him - he had the apology written on her face and begrudgingly he agreed.

“Let's go dears” Narcissus spoke tenderly as she gestured for the two of them to follow her

Draco glared at Aurie, then he felt the familiar pain in his skull before she spoke to him .

“I wanted to tell you” 

It was private to speak to him that way, where Narcissa wouldn't know. But Draco’s gasp at the sudden intrusion of pain caught her attention and revealed what she was doing.

“Aurora please stop speaking to my son like that - you know it makes it hard to control” His mother didn't look back as she spoke and walked through the halls of the Manor; the pair trickling behind her.

“I’m in control well enough,” Aurie snapped back at her.

Draco had only ever heard a few people dare snap at his mother like that, he presumed that Aurie was not aware of the power Nracissa held in her own home, even while it was occupied by high ranking Death Eater Generals: with Luscious Absent, and Draco not of age, she was technically the Master of the estate.

“It’s not you I’m worried about”, His mother's voice cut into him - she was talking about him.

She was worried about his control. His reserve and ability to stop something. Something that he hoped would be told to him soon, or he’d find out for himself. Whatever it was, he wanted to know.

Narcissa led them to the Ladies Drawing Room on the west side of the Manor, the side which held his bedroom and the guest suites. Without her wand, she summoned a dish of tea with milk, honey, and sugar displayed along with the brewing liquid.

Draco went about fixing his tea with an ungodly amount of honey.

Only a few minutes later of awkward, tension filled silence did Professor Snape step through the fireplace in a swat of green flames: the Floo Network.

“I see you learned how to apparate over the summer - ” he spoke snarly, gesturing in Draco’s direction, “And I see you knew how to not splinch yourself using your Legilims skills” that time he gestured in Aurie’s direction. She smiled.

Leglimens: thats off, he thought. He was certain that the voice in his head wasn’t a legilimens. A legilimens could only recall memories that the person was aware of, not ones they weren’t present for, or create them out of thin air, like she had.

“The others are not coming Severus” Narcisaa spoke as Severus took a seat on the lounge chair parallel to the sofa that he and Aurie were sitting on opposite ends of.

No one spoke for a few more moments. Draco was aware of every person's movements as they took them. His mother’s shift in posture, and anxious switching of her crossed ankles. Snape was unabashedly making his own cup of tea, and Aurie was staring at him, watching his every move. To which there were few.

“Well if no one is going to speak, I am going to ask questions” Draco barranted, his voice echoing in the room, seeing Aurie shift in her seat, crossing her ankles.

That was another trained gesture. That was a pureblood sitting position that she never did.

“Mister Malfoy, you will have questions when your Mother and I have finished anyways. Lest we let you berate us with questions first that will be answered, you will keep quiet unless spoken to” 

Snape spoke harshly pointing at him, and then at Aurie beside him as his mother went over her private bookcase in the back of the room, pulling a scroll off the top. 

Draco wasn't sure who was going to have more difficulty being silent: him or her, they both looked ready to yell.

“I wanted to tell you Draco- when you were younger - but it was too dangerous” His mother started. Draco interrupted, intentionally ignoring Snape’s request

“You know everyone keeps telling me it's dangerous, and I keep getting vague answers about things. How about just blurt out what the hell is going on?” he leaned down to rest his elbows on his knees, and fist his hands together - unintentionally.

“Quiet boy!” Snape insisted.

“When I was pregnant with you Draco something was wrong. It would feel like I was burning from the inside, out in only my core. I sought out Severus initially, thinking there was a potion that could make it go away. What we found -” he mother stopped for a second, and Snape continued in her stead.

“No potion alleviated your mother’s painful sensations. Your father sought out a Celtic medi-witch in desperation, one that dealt with old blood magic, to see if there was blood curse on your Mother, or himself and that was causing the pain”

Draco leaned in his seat. Knowing it was celtic magic that was performed on him at Borgin and Burkes was relevant to the situation, to his magical signature.

“They performed the spell that you underwent, to detect your magical signature as a fetus. When a witch is with a child there should be two magical signatures - but on your mother the detected three. Hers, a gold orb, and two balls of fire emitting from her stomach” Snape stopped and gestured to the both of them “the two of you”.

“I knew the spell hurt Draco .. I would have .. I would have never let you take it that night if I could have stopped it… “ Narcisaa whispered from her position on the armchair adjacent to Draco. She clutched the scroll tightly in her hands.

“Narcissa, Please” Snape looked over at her, and she unraveled the scrolls revealing celctic symbols.

Draco instantly recognized them as the same symbols he and Hermione had spent weeks translating in order to find the origins of the spell, and then the reason for his fire.

“Revealio Dialect Translation” Narcissa whispered as the tip of her wand tapped the unravelled scroll.

The symbols changed to a willow tree, complete with names and dates and branches spanned over the pages. On the bottom half of the scroll was tiny print, messages and record relevant to the family that Draco had never read about, and Names that bore the Black surname he had never known of.

It was the original Black family tree.

The magical parchment that names could not be erased from under bloodline binds. Anyone who had been erased on records of copies was magically bonded to the tree by their chemistry of their blood.

Draco’s eyes scanned the paper until he found his Mother’s name 

\- Narcissa Malfoy (Nee Black) - 

his eyes scanned lower and he saw two buds with names underneath them 

\- Draco Lucius Malfoy- and - Aurora Narcissa Malfoy-

“How ?” he whispered, no one chastised him that time, His Mother Spoke again to explain.

“It’s a family curse - you were right about Marius, Apollo, Vego, Polaris, and Phoenix - Draco, they were the same as the two of you. The only record that has the curse is this original family tree.” Narcisaa stalled herself before speaking again.

He watched his mother take a breath before starting again, this time softer, almost trembling. 

“ The Gemini curse on the Black family ensures that children born in the month of June will always have a twin. The pain I was feeling, the burning, was Aurora being created where you already existed. As a split of your own magical signature”

“I don’t understand - Marius wasn't a twin?” Draco whispered, looking between the three of them.

Aurie did not look shocked in the slightest. Instead she was fascinated by the scroll in front of her - looking at it as if everything she had known was being cement. She wanted answers where Draco felt he was only getting more questions.

“He was dear, but his twin died in the womb, he’s not on the tree because he never took a first breath, that’s how this record works” Narisaa reached out and grasped her son’s knuckles, instantly Draco took his other hand to cup overtop of his Mother’s gesture.

To his surprise Aurie was the one who spoke next.

“Both are born natural legilimens, and can use occlumency very well. But of the two, the one that splits from the other at the manifestation of the curse is destructive in nature. Their bodies were created from a pure magical signature. Under pressure, the magical signature has a tendency to burt out of them and cause horrible destruction - usually killing them” She breathed, looking at the floor.

Aurie contonuned “I am the split from your magical signature. You have the legilimens ability and the capacity to be trained in occlumency. But I am the one who is supposed to die-” Snape cut her off.

“Not supposed to die. Likely to die.” Snape corrected her.

“Like an obscurus? I found that in the book you gave us Professor- " Draco spoke and gestured to Snape who tensed slight, Draco presumed no one knew of the book Snape had given him and Hermione for their research “- an Obscruis is thought to be a split in the magical signature… and it can explode out of them killing them young?”

“I’m not an obscurus!” Aurie stood up, voice echoing in the quite room.

“Aurora Narcissa Malfoy, sit down” That was the first stern words spoken by his mother that Aurie instantly obeyed, taking her seat again.

“I am not an Obscuris. An obscurus’ form in the absence of love and devotion. Andromeda and Ted made sure I never became unleashed, or dangerous in their care. Our split is different, Instead it growing curing one's life, the curse is magically bound from the beginning, and is inescapable”

Aurie bowed her head and the words rang in Draco’s ears: ‘magically bound and inescapable’.

“Aurora is not an Obsuris, but she’s just as dangerous as one” Snape retorted back into the room. 

Aurie only nodded in response and Draco felt his Mother grip his hand tighter under his own.

“When I found out about the curse I worked tirelessly to break it - to make Aurora normal - but when you were both born... her eyes glowed gold and I knew I couldn't--”

“Couldn't what?” Draco questioned his mother, stopping her thought. “Couldn't keep her? Train her? You said she has control now? Why couldn’t you be the one to control her?” He gawked, astonished at his Mothers actions.

He felt a sudden protection over her. She had been abandoned by her family, a pureblood family from high wizarding society and sent to live with a pureblood outcast. Not that she seemed particularly pertaining to the terms of blood status. Draco knew it wasn’t a fair fight for an infant. 

Narcisaa Malfoy had always put her family first. Even put her child bferoe he husband at times, but Draco couldn't fathom a world where his Mother willingly gave up her own child, even if it was to protect the other.

He stared down at the family tree with the two names under his mothers. Narcissa Malfoy had chosen to rid herself of the burden of one of her children in favour of the other.

“Aurora has the ability to level a town, Draco, if she’s untamed” Draco heard Aurie scoff beside him, amused at the comment.

“I can do that” she giggled “doesn’t mean I will”

“You don't know- Narcissa started, but Aurie cut her off again.

“I do know actually. I’ve spent every day of my life since Andromeda told me how to control it, learning to control it, to manipulate it with my mind. And before that she knew how to control it for me. I can level a town , but I also choose not to” she snapped, rising to her feet.

Draco saw what he could only discern the eyes that greeted his mother when she was born. Gold glowing eyes behind her lashes as she stood. She did look dangerous, he would give her that.

“You still haven’t answered why you and father couldn't be the ones to keep her?” Draco bit his tongue when his tone came out like a growl at his Mother. Despite his anger and frustrations, she was still his Mother, and he was raised to respect her.

“When the two of you were born the Dark Lord was ascending in power, it was right before his raid on the Potter’s house the following autumn. If he knew what she was … he would have used her… wanted her trained as a weapon for him… I did what I had to do to protect both of my children”

At her last words, Narcissa looked Aurie dead in the eyes, pleading at the girl to sit back down and understand.

“I gave you to Andromeda because I knew she would love you like her own. I knew she could train you to control it - in that moment I didn’t care that she was disowned.” Draco saw a single tear dip down his mother’s cheeks.

Aurie sat down again, this time closer to Draco. So that she could be nearer to the scroll in front of them. She kept her eyes on his Mother and her hands fisted on the side of her skirt. Draco wondered if that was a way of control, holding something. Grounding her to reality.

“Aurora I wanted to give you a chance”

His Mother’s whispers hit her and tears freely flowed down her cheeks. He’d seen his mother cry, but not like this. In that moment he knew that giving away her daughter was the hardest thing she had ever done.

Suddenly that one dream he had made more sense. The faceless woman receives something from his mother -a child, Aurie- saying that she could never visit, and that the child could never know - that HE could never know.

“You showed me...” Draco turned to Aurie, she nodded.

“I can recall memories when I was newborn, you can too. It’s a legilimens trait. I showed you the moment that Narcissa gave me to Andromeda--- I had hoped you would remember something too” she whispered.

Narcissa’s eyes went wide, and Draco assumed she was none the wiser to that ability of her daughter. She was not aware that her daughter could recall the exact moment in which she had given her away to protect her other family.

It broke something in her and Draco felt his Mother’s hands in his own start to tremble.

“So - so this Gemeni Curse is on the Blakc family tree, what did Father say about this?” Narcissa's eyes dropped to the floor instantly and Draco knew he had touched a nerve.

It was Snape that spoke next, timidly. “Everyone who was aware that your Mother was carrying twins was told that one died shortly after birth. Your father is under the impression that Aurora is dead”

Draco’s eyes went wide at the statements. His Father was not privy to the knowledge that his Mother had secretly given away their daughter, his twin sister, to her disowned sister to be raised in secret to protect her from the Dark Lord. But she let the child’s father - her father- think she was dead.

“What do we do now?” Aurie Whispered, changing the conversation from the fact that his father - their father - thought she was dead.

“Now” His mother stared at the two of them, lifting her shameful gaze from the carpet to her children. It was the first time she had seen them together since their birth, and the sight of them brought tears to her eyes.

“Now, you keep eachother safe. If the Dark Lord finds out that she is alive, finds out about the curse, then you will both be in danger. Aurora because of her strength, and you Draco, because with your Lgelimins connection he could find her. Your magical gestures are bound together, the occlumency you can learn can train your mind to repress the binds. But he could use you to find her… Keep you both parat to protect you”

It made sense to Draco, all of it.

He finally had the answers he’d been searching for, for months.

The Gemini Curse on the Black Family Tree causes a fetus’s magical signature to split in two and create a magical twin. He was born in June, the month of the gemini, the sign of the twins.

His magical signature was a ball of fire that roared from his chest, the cult only assumed the Aurie’s matched his own. But her could erupt out of her, cause decoration unparalleled by spells. 

They could talk to each other in their heads, the only good thing to come for the curse was a sense of protective barriers between the two. They could speak to each other, but Draco was untrained and it caused him pain.

She was dangerous and untamed and his mother had sent her away to keep her safe from people who would want to use her from description ,and exploit her from infancy. In the same way she had pleaded with him to not take a mission and not take the mark.

She had always protected her children.

Narcisaa Malfoy looked between her two children sitting on the couch in front of her and smiled. They both scrunch their noses when they were confused.

***

After major protests by both Aurie and Draco, Snape had finally convened the pair to floo back to the castle. He had owled Headmaster Dumbledore in advance, citing appatation lesions gone haywire.

Aurie was very vocal about her protests that the excuse was futile and Dumdbledore likely saw right through it - Draco wasn’t so sure.

As they approached the fireplace, stomach full of tea, and heads full of answers Narcissa grabbed onto Aurie’s arms for a second, pulling her aside. Draco stalled his footing to listen to their brief conversation.

“Aurora you will never know how sorry I feel” He heard his mother whisper.

“You know Andromeda used to write me letters addressed from you” Aurie spoke, and it still stilled Draco’s entire body, as did his mother’s “She would pretend that my Mother was writing to me. I think she still had hope you would come back for mer, for your daughter. She finally told me the whole truth when I was nine - that you weren’t coming back”

Draco almost felt the gasp his Mother took in at the notion that Andromeda had held hope for her until she was nearly a decade old.

“I blew up the garden shed that day by accident” At That Draco went to Aurie's side and took her by the arm, just over her elbow where she couldn't escape easily and led her away.

He wasn’t sure if it was a gesture to stop Aurie’s speech for his Mother’s sake, his, or for Aurie’s.

In any regard the lot of them had had enough traumatizing information for one night - Draco was surprised he was still standing on his own two feet at the realization and then confirmation that he had a secret sister, it almost sounded comical.

Aurie went through the floor first, followed by Professor Snape. Engulfed in the green flames Draco hesitates once it was his turn.

“Draco”?

“Yes Mother” he rasped, his thought it was dry despite the copious amounts of honey that he stirred into his tea throat that conversation.

“The Black family ring-” she started, pointing down to his pinky where the black band, engraved with the family crest was at his finger. He’d been given it as a gift for his sixteen birthday the revus summer, as was tradition.

“- It’s Auroras - technically she was born first… And I … I want her to have something from me, something so that she knows I care, I’ve always cared”

He looked down to the ring he’d proudly worn for the better part of 6 months. In the week he’d been given his mission and told he was to take the mark at its completion, his mother had given him the ring, and the choice.

It was his, on technicality, but it was also Aurie’s if she was the first born heir. He would forfeit it - she deserved something, she deserved more.

He couldn't help the wave of feeling that rushed through as his brain fully processed what his mother and Snape and said. He felt inclined to protect her, let her know that if he had known about her he would have fought for her. It wasn't fair that she was sent away. 

Draco stepped into the fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo pounder from the stool hat lain beside him. A fistful in hand he spoke to her before disappearing into the emerald green flames.

“She should have had a Mother”


	20. Golden

6th Year, November 17th

When they stepped through the floo in the Headmaster office both students were sent swiftly back to their common rooms. Aurie to Hufflepuff and Draco to his shared situation with Hermione.

That was the first time Drac had really thought about her since he had gotten to the Manor. There were offshoot ideas that lingered in his mind, things that remind him of her, but he didn;t stop to contemplate what he would be walking back to upon a return.

Twice in one day Draco had left Hermione alone and confused. The first being when he kissed her, and the second being when he had apparated away with his sister.

Draco figured we could either be walking into a common room with an enraged Hermione, scolding him for kissing her and then running off to ‘probably splinch himself and another classmate’. Or he could be walking into a completely still common room, with Hermione locked into her bedroom with wards placed around it.

He wasn’t sure which would be better, it was more a matter of which was worse.

When he got to the Senior Prefect’s quarters she was nowhere to be found. Her bedroom door was closed, but Draco noted that there were no wards on it as he walked by. If she was in there, she wasn’t worried he would go barging in … at least that's something.

The next morning Draco didn’t see her in the common room again, nor did he catch a flash of her curly hair in the Great Hall at morning meal. It was Sunday, and he figured she was in Gryffindor with Weaslbee and Potter, discussing their theories on what happened to Katie.

He’d almost forgotten about Katie Bell and the cursed necklace.

It wasn’t until Professor Snape had cornered him just outside the GreatHall after breakfast requesting him in his office that he truly remembered that the worst was likely yet to come.

Now Draco sat in a chair across from Professor Snape, and unexpectedly, Headmaster Dumbledore.

Dumbedlore had been in the office waiting on His and Snape’s arrival, and Draco was certain the conversation that was about to ensue was about Katie Bell and the curse that was initially meant for his Headmaster.

When Dumbledore spoke it threw him off completely.

“Your Sister has been asked to conduct your occlumney lesions, personally by your mother.

“... you know…?” he breathed.

“About which Mr Malfoy? Your mission or the curse necklace. Because it is yes to all the above”

“How?” Draco was at a loss for words as he stared between his two superiors.

“I know all that happens in these castle walls, child”

Draco turned his head between the two before Snape spoke again.

“Headmaster has been aware of your sister's situation since the moment she set foot inside the wards. Some secrets are not easily hidden young Malfoy”

Headmaster nodded his head towards him, affirming to Draco that he knew the situation.

It dawned on him that Aurie had been sorted in a private ceremony in the Headmaster Office, and the hat would reveal the bloodline name of its wearer - if Dumbldore had not known before then, then Snape had surely explained to him after - or Aurie had.

“So what now? Does anyone know it was me who cursed Bell?” Draco managed to ask, it seemed that every conversation he took part of nowadays left him breathless and searching for more answers.

“Mr Potter and Mr Weasley managed to see you in Hogsmeade while you were out, they’ve affirmed their belief that it was you. Though I may point out that they have no proof, only suspicion.” Snape said sternly.

Draco nodded at that - of course they had seen him: he thought.

“I think it will be in your best interest to change that belief through Miss Granger, she’s quite impartial” Headmaster continued Snape's thoughts for him.

Draco knew that would be likely difficult to do without revealing Aurie’s cover. In fact, Draco figured it would be hard to have a simple conversation without doing that, as he anticipated being berated with questions the minute she showed herself in the common room. The witch couldn’t help herself when it came to mysteries and questions.

“I doubt she’ll listen if the two of them have already gotten to her” Draco smirked under his breath. It was almost to himself, but it was loud enough for them to hear him.

“As the two of you are senior prefects, you are in part in charge of student safety… I think you'll find you both will benefit from a level of trust between the pair of you” Dumbledore spoke, and with a wave of his hand opened the door, a motion for him to leave.

Draco had a hard time believing that Hmerione Granger was going to listen to him on any fronts. Even more so, he had a hard time conceptualizing that Dumbldore had essentially asked him to build a bond of trust with her on a bed of lies.

That’s what he meant: Draco thought. Lie about curing Katie, and get Potter and Weasley off his case.

He never clarified, but he figures he was banned from telling her about Aurie, and he certainly had no plans to tell her he had a mission to kill his Headmaster … that conversation would turn more sour than a lemon quicker than Dumdbeldore could reveal another trick up his sleeve. And draco was coming to realize the old bat was quick to pull those

Hermione Granger was likely not going to listen to a word he said - and he didn’t blame her.

His head was filled with unanswered questions as to how Dumdbeldore came about the knowledge of his sister… but he let his feet carry him out of the room, head bowed, and breathing shaky.

Draco had soon given up on Granger's muggle idea to focus on something he could control - like his breathing - it never seemed to work unless she was there with him.

Unknowingly, his feet carried him to the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room. He’d never been inside, but he knew Aurie would likely be there, and he had so many questions he couldn’t just let simmer.

Huffelpuff was the only common room not enclosed behind a portrait or painting. The door didn’t even have a lock on it, you just had to find the entrance hidden up a spiral staircase that was tucked and hidden away at the cross section of corridors.

The lack of password was Helga Hufflepuff’s doing, with their inclusionary perspective, that all students were welcome at Hogwarts. Draco remembered reading it in “Hogwarts A History”, Salazar took her plight as a matter of spite against him.

Blaise had found it in fourth year during the Triwizard Tournament. He’d been having a conversation with Diggory when Diggory suddenly disappeared into the castle's alcoves, he’d followed and ended up in the dormitory.

He’d told Draco about it one night later that year. He had no particular interest in discovering the room further than Blaise’s vaguely detailed recounts. He’d imagined it to be plant infested, with giggling witches in wizards in awful yellow jumpers. It was not a sight he ever wanted to see for himself.

Now with Draco’s feet at the entrance it felt wholly inappropriate to just barge in - he’d done nothing but torment most of the House for years on blood status. There was rarely a sacred pureblood storted into Hufflepuff, and if they were Draco didn’t ever make their acquaintance.

He felt knocking was more appropriate, but what would he say when some second year opened the door to find Draco Malfoy asking for the new girl.

The decision was made for him when Hannah Abbot stepped out of the portrait, her younger sister in tow. Draco had never paid attention to Abbot, she was often in the greenhouse with Longbottom - to whom he avoided.

“Malfoy,” Hannah said flatley, before walking right past him. That's not very Hufflepuff of her: he thought.

Her sister slowed her steps to speak to him as Hannah walked away with her head held high. Draco thought that perhaps he had teased her when they were younger and she held a grudge against him for it.

“Anything you need?” The fourth year asked.

“Could you let Aurie Francis know I would like to speak with her” He spoke as smoothly as he could, but even he could tell there was tension in his voice that the girl picked up on.

“ Sure, one second” she turned back to Hannah and said “ I’ll catch up” before turning to disappear inside the oak door once again.

Only a few minutes later did the younger Abbot come emerging from the door, Aurie right behind in tow looking bewildered to say the least.

Abbot turned to levas and Draco caught her attention “Thank you -” he wasn’t sure how to address her, ‘Abbot’ was her sister in his eyes, siblings had always confused him.

“Charlotte” she clarified with a smile, before hurrying off to join her sister, probably astonished over the fact that Draco Malfoy had said thank you to a Hufflepuff. Which much to his dismay - he had.

“I thought you’d have questions” Aurie spoke as Charlotte ran off.

Draco managed a half-smile “I’d be more concerned if I didn’t have questions”

“You want to come in, or do you want to go somewhere?” She asked, Draco pondered the idea of going into the common room behind her, but stopped himself. He didn’t exactly care for the strange looks he would surely receive, nor did he want someone to overhead the conversion.

“Elsewhere. Outside preferably” he clarified, Aurie nodded her head and summoned her winter robes.

The first snowfall of the season was the night before, and it left the outside air and ground bitterly cold and damp as the warm morning air meted the top layer of snow. Draco had been wearing his winter robes in the castle even, knowing his feet would likely carry him there at some point in the day.

“Won’t Hermione ask where you’ve gone?” Aurie asked, once they had come out of the alcove that hid the staircase to the dorm. Bare to the etching mechanics of the hallways, and the impending notion that students could walk by, Draco felt it best to lower his voice to barley above a whisper to respond.

“She’s avoiding me” Draco stated plainly, not wanting to delve into why. He knew why, but maybe not all of why.

“Right, because you kissed her and ran” Aurie giggled.

Draco thought the air had completely escaped from his lungs, and though his blood disappeared from shock. That was the reason she was ignoring him, that and his constantly disappearing. Had Hermione told her?

“Legilimens Draco.”

“Doesn’t answer -”

“She opened the common room and looked like she’d seen a ghost. I was making sure she wasn’t in any danger, and I saw you kiss her in the first memory I pulled up”

Draco gawked at her, his next words slipping from his lips before he could stop them

“Aurie, that would have hurt her,” he scolded.

“No, it wouldn’t. It’s only our connection that hurts, the transfer of memories and slips of consciousness between the two people with the curse. On an ordinary person, they feel nothing… they won’t even realize it's happening most times”

Draco didn’t say anything, but he knew what she was thinking. The smirk was written over her face.

“I promise” she smiled again. Draco nodded at her clarification, affirming what she was thinking. 

She was implying that he cared about Hermione.

Which he did.

And he had absolutely no reason too.

Sensing that he was done talking about it Aurie stopped. But Draco’s mind still tried to gather any information it could about her, and how that eventual reunion would go. Most reactions he could imagine ended with him in the infirmary and with a split lip, much like he had in third year. 

Aurie led him to the edge of the grounds to the Quidditch Pitch, where they took a seat in the Slytherin section. She didn’t say anything and he took that as a sign to speak first.

“What did they mean when they said you could level a village”

“Not exactly where I thought you’d start, but I guess we can jump right in”

Aure stood up from where she was sitting. Draco was taken aback from the action, he expected a verbal explanation not a demonstration of her capabilities. Sensing his new discomfort, she turned her head back and gave him a reassuring smirk.

As she proceeded with the smirk, Draco watched her eyes glow gold.

He was able to look carefully this time, and see just exactly what the gold looked like. Her pupils dilated, and the whites of her eyes remained. The only part which changed was the grey color that the new saw resembled his own.

Aurie turned so that she was standing a bench down from him, and facing him head on. With wide eyes Draco watched her bring her hand together in a cupping motion, as if she were making a snowball with the air.

Instead of closing her eyes, her eyes were staring right into hise, wide, matching his own and watching his reaction. Draco’s eyes were fixed on her hands.

She pulled them apart from themselves, he saw it.

Sparks.

Gold Sparks to be exact.

And then burst of light as golden flames appeared in her hands, cupped in each palm as she separated her hands to her sides. They cracked and speckled, as they grey slightly then diminished back to a small flicker of light in her palms.

Embers and sparks tricked out of the small flames, but disintegrated almost as soon as they were apart from the main fire. Aurie wiggled her fingers and the flames danced her palms in unsions with her movements.

Draco watched her take a big breath, deep in her core as her chest epaned before the light burst again. Fmlaes blared upwards from her hands, and Draco felt the heat radiation onto his skin as the fire raged before him.

Then they were gone.

All that was left of them was the lingering sparks emitting from aurie fingers and she closed her hands, and fisted them into the pockets of her robes.

“That’s what they mean when they said I could level a town. My magical signature is unstable, and can burst out of me, think of it like an Anger Disorder -”

Draco made a face at that.

“Right-” Aurie sighed “ - muggle thing. I basically mean that my emotional responses can trigger my magical signature to pour out of me. What you saw is a controlled spark. I thought of an emotional trigger and used it to create the flames from - our magical signature”.

“But Andromeda trained you?”

Draco had not been able to get a whole answer about Aurie’s childhood with his estranged Aunt while the pair of them were at the Manor. He registered his Mother’s discomfort when discussing Aurie’s upbringing, and didn’t pester her with questions, despite the many he had.

“I wouldn't say trained… I would say she taught me. She put me in muggle therapy, and anger management classes to help me control powerful emotional triggers. Her and Ted were very doting, the first time I ever made anything burst into flames was when she told me about you”

Draco’s breath caught in his throat before he spoke. The wave of protection he’d felt at the manor washed over him again, Like a ship wrecking into a rock scattered shoreline and breaking apart into pieces. He wanted to shield her from the insurmountable pain she’d so clearly endured at the realization that she had been abandoned.

“If I had known I would have looked for you”

It was an honest answer. Even as a child surrounded by pureblood children he’d found childhood very lonely. The Manor was empty on most days, except for other adults who had no interest in playing games with a child.

His older years were much lonelier as his father prepared from the return of Lord Voldemort, and his Mother distanced herself from everyone, except for himself, trying to ensure he wouldn't get caught up in it all.

He was very sure that if he knew about a sister, he would have gone to find her, maybe even tried to stay there and escape it all.

“I think I know that Draco” Aurie resumed her position beside him, the sparks now fully erased from her fingertips. She nudged his shoulder with her elbow as he did.

“Can I ask you a question, Draco?”

“I guess, sure”

“I’m in your head more than I think you know I am -”

She started and Draco paled thinking about all the times he’d shown her Hermione’s Honey shampoo, let her scent the bathroom, and gotten off the imagined scene of her naked body with him.

“ - I see you staring at her too. If you want her, why haven’t you gone for it?” Aurie questioned, Her words causing the pang in his chest to return again, The pang he recognized only came when someone mentioned something about Hermione that either upset him or enlightened him.

But if only she knew. Aurie and Hermione. Aurie didn’t know the history there.

The pain and torment he’d influenced on the ‘Brightest Witch of her Age’ for years, the torment which meant she’d likely think anything he did against him was a deceptive plan.

Aurie only saw stolen glances after he’d had the unfortunate discovery that he smelled her shampoo in his Amortentia. She didn’t know why it was so wrong for both of them.

“There’s too much History … besides it's all one big mess anyways. It wound’t be anything if it wassnt’ for the fucking …” He trailed off, not wanting to reveal that detail.

Aurie, however, finished the sentence form him, giving several explanations. “The Amortentia, the shared common room, and the fact that she looks at you the same way”.

The last one threw him off, and once again Draco had wide eyes and stared at his estranged sister.

“Whatever history is there, I think she’s let it go. I think she’d be receptive”

“Have you been in her head to know this?” he teased.

“No actually. I try not to do that on unsuspecting victims. You’re the exception because I wanted to know my brother. That was all simple observation”

Had she really been staring at him? Surely Aurie was mistaken? A flurry of concerns flew through Draco’s head and turned his characteric smirk into a confused frown.

He wasn’t even sure why he cared if Hmerione was watching him. All of his advances - slip ups- were because of the Amortentia, and everything that followed that.

“Okay my turn again” Draco said, the frown still blanketing his face, “Who knows? About this, Dumbledore let up that he knows. Does anyone else?”

That question had burned him since he’d left the Manor. Adding fire to the flame was when Dumdbelore had let up that he knew Aurie was his sister, and the question had remained in the backbone of his head since. It was the main question he had when his feet carried him to the hufflepuff staircase.

“Of whose alive: Dumbledore, Snape, Andromeda, Ted, Tonks, Remus Lupin, and after this conversation, Hermione Granger”

Aurora Malfoy was certainly good at keeping Draco on the edge of his seat.

“What?!” he scream-asked.

“Either you are telling her, or I am. Narcissa told me to teach you Occlumency, and the safest place to do that is your common room where we can be uninterrupted. Hermione’s going to wonder why I can be let into the wards, she’s already suspicious because I was able to knock on the portrait without facing a magical reaction”

“Blood relatives can go into the wards…”

He mumbled to himself, remembering how McGonagell stated that the wards were simple and would let in relatives, but seeing as how she thought they were both only children, it wouldn't be a problem. That proved Mcgonagell was not informed about Aurie’s cover.

“We tell her together then…” he trailed off and continued after rescuing a look from the witch beside him “... if she decides that I’m being a git, or decides to hex me I’d rather have back up to calm her down”

“Think she can best you in a duel?” Aurie giggled.

“Yes actually” Draco said, eyebrows rising to his hairline in emphasis, showing her that he was completely serious.

Hermione Granger could take him down in a wand duel, he knew that. His only advantage was size, and potentially physically overpowering her; magically, She had the upper hand.

“Alright then. Tonight when she’s back from the library, tell me, and I’ll come to help explain”

Draco knew what she meant by ‘tell me’, she wanted him to try and use their Leglimins connection. Practice made it less painful according to Snape.

“Okay. One more thing” Draco reached to his hand and pulled the Black Family ring off his pinky finger, extending it in an open palm to Aurie.

“ The Black Family ring is an heirloom that gets passed down to the first hier: Mother said that you are older. This belongs to you then.”

“I’m only a Black by blood -”

“Blood means something ” Draco protested, the ring still flat in his palm, it was becoming clearer that she was not going to gleefully accept it.

“- no it doesn’t. Caring, and family means something, blood means nothing to me. Andromeda, Ted, and Tonks are my family. I consider you my family because you were kept from the truth, and when you found out you didn’t reject me. But Narcissa, Lucius, and the whole Black line is not my family”

Aurie looked him in the eye and let her eyes glow gold as he stared back at her, retaining his hands and placing the ring in his pocket instead of his finger.

“I think it’s time you also realized blood doesn’t mean anything, because clearly she means something”

At that Aurie stood up from the benches and made her way down the stairs of the Quidditch Stands.

Draco thought about it, the Black Family ring burning a hole in his pocket from her rejection of it. Her rejection of blood and its validity, her impression that blood should’t mean anything. He knew what she was getting at, but he wasn’t sure he accepted it. He wasn’t sure he was ready to.

Ready to deny his upbringing, his father’s stern values. Ready to apologize for the years of torment and bullying. Ready to let himself feel that way he felt, the undedmable panging in his chest wasn't a figment of imagination. It was real and it meant something.

Aurie was real and she meant something.

Hermione was real and she meant something.

Draco started to think that maybe blood didn’t mean anything at all.

***

That evening Draco didn’t hide out in the frosty air, or disappear to his own bedroom before the sun disappeared behind the clouds. He sat in his armchair by the bookcase, twiddling with his wand and reciting basic spells to keep him busy until Hermione came through the painting.

He’d rolled through as many scenarios as his brain let him process before getting a headache. Most ended with a hex hurled at his body or, the more presumptive scenarios, ended with him kissing her again, with her kissing back this time. Of which scenarios he suspected were highly unlikely.

Left alone in his thoughts for hours, Draco let Aurie’s words ring in his ears for hours on end.

Admittedly it started out unintentional, a feeling deep within him that he couldn’t shake. It was easier to succumb to the idea than to fight it. He’d done so much fighting he wasn’t sure how much was left.

He hadn’t ever truly let himself feel broken, he didn’t want to feel ashamed for being left with nothing. He needed to keep an element of control. Hmerione tested his control and crumbled his reserve in a way he had never imagined she could. He didn’t want to let her slip in and everything else crumble around them.

‘Blood means nothing to me’.

Draco couldn't recall a week in his life where the mention of blood status or family blood relations wasn’t a topic of conversation. The idea that there were things more important than blood was foregn to him.

But he’d watched his father re-ally with the dark lord despite his mother’s constant pleadings for him not to. His father certainly considered some withings more important than blood.

Voldemort himself wasn’t pureblooded: the sheer fact that his father, Lucuis Malfoy was willing to fight with his life confused him when he had uncovered the information. If blood was so impronnaat, why did his father serve a non pureblood? Why was he considered destined to serve him as well?

He had thought about it before, on his cold nights by the Black Lake, or in his frenzied showers, that maybe one thing could be more important than blood.

Just one thing.

Hermione came rushing through the door at exactly 8:25 pm, later than he expected.

She had a stack of books taller than her shoulders, and was walking very quietly, assuming that Draco was hollowed in his bedroom and not sat across the room in the armchairs they had spent so much time in.

He didn’t say anything to get her attention just closed his eyes and concentrated on telling Aurie. 

-She’s here- the words echoed in his head but not the room around him.

-Okay, I’m on my way- Aurie replied, and then the echo was gone, only a minor headache lingered in his head, enough to make him sigh at the pain, knocking Hermione into reality.

“You…. you're… out here…” she gasped, dropping her books into a pile on the floor. Some pewd open revealing scribbled on pages and pieces of ripped parchment.

Draco stood from the chair and knelt down to pick them up with her. Not looking up to her until he had controlled his breathing in her and carefully curated his next line of words.

“I do live here, Granger,” Draco teased, a smile brightening his features. If he could help it, he would try to flatter her, ensuring that he might make it out of the conversion uninjured.

“I’m aware Malfoy” Hermione said the last word with a hiss on her tongue.

Draco hated it. He had never noticed that she had started calling him by his first name, until she had reverted back to ‘Malfoy’. She’d stopped after the kiss, Draco doubted that she would be receptive to another, like Aurie had teased.

“I have to tell you something” He started with a deep breath, as he handed a book to her. Glancing down at the book, he saw the title - Hogwarts A History - very predictable this witch was.

“You don’t have to talk about it….” Hermione tried to speak, Draco cut her off.

“Surprisingly Granger, not all of my problems revolve around you. That’s not what I mean. I meant well…” He stalled, Aurie's voice returning to his head.

-I’m at the portrait- Draco got an idea.

“It might be easier if I showed you, Granger” Draco plucked the books from her arms and placed them down on the kitchenette table. Turning on his heel for the door, he saw the corner of his eyes that Hermione had followed him instead of running to her room. Good.

He opens the portrait door all the way to reveal Aurie standing there in her winter robes and Hufflepuff scarf. Hermione didn’t say anything, just looked between the two blonde confused and let Draco speak.

“Don’t freak out” he pleaded, it was almost a whisper, and deep down he hoped Hermione didn’t catch it. She did however, but was cut off from anything more when Aurie took a large step through the curved portrait door and into the entryway of the Senior Prfect’s common.

Hermione gasped at the same time she went wide-eyed before draco heard some mumbling under her breath. ‘ words aren’t working’, ‘ Draco found a way to sneak people in’ , ‘ need to tell McGonagell’

Hermione drew her wand from her robes beside her, anticipating an attack of some kind: Draco had to suppress a laugh that the thought that Hmerione suspected he’d somehow managed to turn Aurie into some dark witch. That seemed more impossible than the truth.

Aurie heard them too and spoke next. “Yean, no one is telling McGonagell, she’ll put me in more therapy-” Hermione stopped mumbling and gaped at her, recognizing the Muggle verbiage. “Let us explain”.

In a swift movement Draco snatched ehr want from her grasp in her hands: “You won’t be needing this”

“Malfoy gave it back!” she twisted her body around his to try and get it back from behind his back, where he had shielded it from her. He felt the inside of her forearm brush his side as she moved, and he sucked in a sharp breath at the contact.

“Just a precaution. Trust me, this will be easier if I can speak unrestrained and not concussed” Draco chuckled, trying to ease her worry about the direction of the conversation. He doubted it had worked, but at least he had given himself the high ground, and she was incapable of hexing him.

With a loud, and overly exaggerated huff, Hmerione turned away and walked over to the armchairs. A signal that she would allow the conversation to ensue. At that Aure smiled up at Draco, grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him over to the armchairs. They both sat on the ground across from her.

“If you’re about to tell me that she got through the wards because she’s pregnant, and your bloodline” - she pointed to Draco, “ let her in, I’d rather be kept in the dark about it” Hermione looked at the two of them in all seriousness.

“God no” Aurie laughed hiding her gag beneath her hand “ jeez you went to extremes real quick” 

“Forgive me, but no one is supposed to be through the wards. McGonagell put them up herself, only people bearing our blood concentrates can enter” Hermione piped, relaxing into the chair a little at the confirmation that her guess was incorrect.

“Granger do you remember what McGonagell said after that? About the blood concentration?” Drcao asked.

“yes”

“That because we were only children, they didn’t have to use stronger ward to prevent them from coming in”

“Yeah .. hold on”

“no “ Hermione stood up and went over the bookshelf taking down the family tree she had complied during their reasedh. “ no, no, we’ve looked over the family tree for weeks and you didn’t have anyone related to you. No mention of any miscarriages or stillbirths, or adopted, or disowned. Nothing. We’ve found dozens of other relatives but not one even from this generation, expect Tonks”

“Yeah they got rid of me well, I’m aware of that” Aurie sighed sadly, looking at the ground where Hermione had spread out the parchments with her scribbled ink.

“Hermione '' Draco said her first name without any reservation, it slipped out before he could try and take it back, before he thought he would want to. “Just hear us out” .

“Give me back my wand first!” she demanded, arm outstretched towards him. Draco looked down at her arm, she hadn't touched him since she was pulling him back from apparating away... Even just to brush her fingertips giving it back, he’d take the contact.

“Draco” Aurie nodded, snapping him into focus, away from the soft curve of Hermione’s writs that he was intentionally staring at.

Grabbing the wand from the back pocket of his trousers, he outstretched the wand to Hermione. He felt his fingers brush her wrist as he did so, and felt the jolt run up his arms and a quickening pace until it ignited the pang under his ribs.

No denying it now: he thought.

Taking Her wand and placing it in the sleeve of her robes, she settled herself on the ground across from them, the parchment between them.

Aurie spoke first. “It’s called the Gemini Curse”.

For three hours that night the three of them sat on the carpet in the Senior Prefect common room. Acquire and Draco explaining the ins and outs of the curse, and drawing on the parchment paper with the dim light of candles surrounding them.

***

Aurie left the common room at half past midnight. Hermione hugged her goodbye as Draco lingered over by the armchairs, unsure if hugging a long lost sister after one day of finding out was the appropriate action.

When Hermione returned, a new wave had recently crashed over him. He was unsure of how an apology for kissing her would go after managing to remain un-hexed for the night.

“Where do you stand, Draco?”

He was back to Draco, and just that sparked a glimmer of hope in him, he was so blinded that he didn’t fully register what she was asking. She clarified before he had to ask.

“We both know this whole thing is going to end in war, between light and dark. Aurie, will fight for light alongside the Order, so where are you?”

He knew the question was coming, he’d anticipated some sort of grand philosophical question after he and Aurie had talked to Hmerione. He wasn’t sure how to answer that without making a decision. HE hadn't made a descaion yet.

The decision between blood and family, and everything else was haunting him.

“What if I’m grey, Granger. What if I don’t have to pick?”

“You do -”

“I don’t want to. I don’t think I can” he whispered, head low and fingers twiddling in his lap where he stood beside the armchairs.

“This is war. You know it, I know it. The castle breaks to broken dreams and terrified children. This is greater than us, greater than Hogwarts. The world feels like it's closer to ending every day. I don't know if grey is good enough”

In a sift movement Draco took her hand in his before him and gave them a squeeze. The most conforming action he’d shown her since the stolen touches at night on the armchairs.

Her hand felt so small and soft in his rough ones, and Draco wanted nothing more in that moment than to pull her close and make the rest of the world disappear around them. Regardless of what she wanted, he wanted to take her away from it all.

When Hermione didn't move away quickly, or try to scramble out of his grasp, Draco signed and met her wide brown eyes with as much reassurance as he could muster after the tolling weekend he had just endured.

“Let me show you what I mean by grey”.


	21. Grey

6th Year, November 25th

Why the hell had he asked for a chance?

Since when did he bloody care what Hermione Granger thought of him? Or rather what anyone thought of him? Furthermore how was he even going to prove it, if he decided that he could make such a choice? The confines in which he existed were so transparent he was sure that the mythical limbo did exist, and he was in it.

He still had his blasted mission to off his Headmaster, despite the old bat knowing his estranged sister was living in the castle, and he and Snape have some duality between them.

Draco Malfoy was under the firm belief that even if he had the chance, he didn’t bloody deserve it.

Within the next few months he was going to kill Albus Dumbledore, one of the greatest wizards in the entire Wizarding World. What he did in the months that predicted his death would ultimately mean nothing to anyone once the task was complete.

He especially didn’t deserve a chance from the witch who had given him one. The witch he’d tormented for years with slurs about her blood status. If anything, Draco beloved she had every right to deny him anything she wanted. If she asked him to move out of the common room he would begrudgingly agree. Hmerione Granger giving him a chance at anything seemed impossible to him. Impossible to imagine, and impossible for him to ever deserve it.

No Draco Malfoy was fairly certain that even if he was able to prove to HermioneGranger that him existing in some little “grey” area was good enough, anything he said would be void the day he let a group of Death Eaters through the castle via a secret Vanishing Cabinet.

Draco Malfoy did not think he should have a chance, but he desperately wanted one. He wanted out of birthrights and debts, and Dark Marks. And he didn't have a clue why he wanted any of that.

He just wanted an escape.

The week that followed Hermione’s conversation with Draco was no less a disaster than the weeks that preceded it.

Despite knowing that Hermione wasn’t going to hex him into oblivion, and that she could comfortably be seated in a room with him reading a book or drinking tea. Draco could not.

The idea that she didn’t hate him sparked a new hope inside his chest that he was not eager to explore. She didn’t hate him, but that certainly did not mean she liked him: in Draco’s eyes.

Every second she was around him, or he was around her, was like a drug in his system. The smell of her soap seemed stronger than it ever had before. The intoxicating sweetness was permanently fused in his head. He was addicted to her, and he was still avoiding her.

He’d found himself completely inebriated by her in classes. He could barely make it through a day without escaping to the familiar cold drizzle of the showers where he could succumb to his thoughts and fantasies under the downpour, surrounded by the scent of Honey-Soap.

It became a religious routine. He would wake up before the sun rose every morning, when he knew she would still be fast asleep across the room, and he would escape to his curiously entanilizing fantasies. Every day it took less and less to get him off. The images of her soft hips, and wild coffee curls growing stronger and more vivid the longer he let himself exist in her presence. By a week later, only a few short tigs lubricated by her shampoo was all it took to be finished.

She was a drug, and there was no escaping her.

Hermione appeared hell bent on worsening his addiction to her. After a week of avoiding her previously, draco found it difficult to go more than a hour without accidentally seeing her in corridors, or the Great Hall. He was certain it was on purpose after his stunt of confidence at the end of their conversion.

He’d promised to show her what being ‘grey’ meant. If Draco was being truthful to himself, he wasn’t sure what Grey meant. He wanted an out of everything. He wanted to disappear into a void without all of this. A timeline where he wasn’t the son of a death eater tasked to kill his headmaster. A timeline where he wasn’t a pureblood wizard being drowned by his attraction to a muggle-born witch. A timeline where he ddn;t have a secret sister and there was no impending war in which he had to fight.

He wanted to be grey to escape it all.

That’s what he had meant.

But that is now how Hermione says it and he knew that. She thought he meant neutral, or abstaining from choice. In simple forms they thought the same: he didn’t want to choose. But for different reasons.

Draco wanted to choose.

He wanted a chance to choose.

He wanted so desperately to be able to choose a side and fight the noble fight, even to death if it be that ending for him. But his ties to both ends had him dangling by a precious thread that threatened to break at any strong movement or tug.

His mission to kill Dumbledore made it impossible to walk the line or rip the threat he was dangling on in two.

He was physically tied to one end, and desperately crawling towards the other.

He didn’t have the chance, not from the side that tied him down. Any disobedience on his part would result in torture, either inlficted on him or his mother, or Aurie if they used Legitimacy on him before he could learn occlumency and found her.

Neither Are nor Hermionehad any idea just how extreme his ties were to the Dark Lord. They were blissfully oblivious to his mission, or the bearing with which the completion of it promised. He was trapped.

It was Saturday again, and Aurie was already sitting in the common room in his armchair waiting for him when he got in from breakfast. Notably, Draco hadn’t seen Hermione at breakfast that morning. The question of where Hmerione was was promptly answered the second it flew into focus in his mind when Hmerione stepped out of her bedroom in full Gryffindor regalia.

“The hell are you going Granger? You look like a red cherry lolyscicle” Draco laughed seeing Hermione dressed head to toe in dark burgundy, even her trousers had been charmed to be deep shade of red, offsetting the true Gryffindor red of her jumper.

“Quidditch game..”

“You hate Quidditch”

“I’m going to refrain from asking just how you know that. But yes, I do hate Quidditch, but I don’t hate Harry and Ron. It's Ron's first game as keeper and I promised I would watch” Draco gave her a puzzling look, she hadn’t explained the shades of red. Noticing this look, she spoke again, “I lost a best with Ginny”

“Yep that would do it” Aurie teased from the chair. Hermione jumped, clearing unaware that the other Malfoy sibling was in the common room.

“Oh, you’re here. Is it training day?” She asked, grabbing her muggle jacket, ready to brace the incoming winter colds.

“Yeah. I apologize if you come home to a shell of a man. I might break him” Acquire teased, getting up from the chair and pointing to Draco, he scoffed in return but didn’t say anything as he moved past both the confusing girls in his dorm and headed for the kitchen.

“I’ve probably seen him worse already…” Hermione voice trailed as she noticed Draco look back slightly at her. It was faint, but Draco was sure he recognized a slight trace of worry in her voice as she said it, it made his chest pang.

“Alright well I’m off. There’s a party in Gryffindor if we win after so I might not be back till late” she hummed, closing the door.

The second the portrait had closed in its curve Aurie was speaking: “ okay so two things, One, you need to have a conversation with the girl about what happened that day you’re looking at her like you want to run her into your bedroom, and I think she’s smart enough to notice that. And two, don’t make tea. It’s likely you’ll be sick after this and it will help if your stomach is empty and not full of hot liquids”

Draco nodded at both, the harsh reality of the pain he was about to endure at the hands of a Hufflepuss completely blinded him to the comment aurie made about him looking at Hermione with hungry eyes. He knew she was right, unfortunately.

Drac shimmied his way over to the floor by the armchairs, fully aware that it would be easier to start on the floor if that was where he was likely to end up. Acquire followed and sat cross-legged in front of him, Draco saw the hesitation in her steps, and mentally prepared himself.

“ I won’t do much today, I just want to see what you can do already. If you can hold up walls around certain memories or things, then that's great, if not I’ll try to show you how”

“Have you had to teach someone before?” Draco couldn't help but asking, she was speaking eloquently, like she had given this speech many times.

“Once. Tonks wanted to learn when she became an Auror, said it would be a helpful asset. In the summers when I was home from France I would teach her, she was pretty decent at it after a few months” Draco nodded and Aurie retrieved the wand from her robe pocket.

“It's likely that anyone who is trying to see your memories will only be using the ‘legilimens' spell, and not actually be a legilimens. I’ll use the spell for now, but later it would be best to be able to ward off both magic and human invasion to your mind”

“What do I do?”

“Think of something, really really hard. The easiest thing to do is to flood your mind with a particular person, subject, or sequence of memories. If you only show the invader what you want them to see, they will tire quickly … especially if it's just the spell.”

“Okay” Draco thought of what exactly he could think about. The Gardens at the manor used to entice him with happy memories, but the flowers his mother carefully cultivated had long been demolished by death eaters and the pack of Fenrir Greyback.

Furthermore , Draco thought about what NOT to think about. Were there certain things he was vehemently opposed to an invader seeing? He obviously had to defect anything that involved Auire, but he also thought about having to defect any memory or feeling that involved Hermione.

“Ready?” he nodded at Aurie’s ask, her wand was pointed directly at his forehead “Leglimins”

Draco felt it instantly. The pain, the snestions up his spine, echoing in his head and ears. It was different from the pain he got when Aurie tried to talk to him, or when he’d had the nightmares, or the pain at Borgin and Burkes. It wasn’t burning and sparkling inside his veins, it was cold and paralyzing. It swept through his rigorously, numbing his fingertip withs the familiar feel of frostbite he’d begun to experience during his alks by the Black Lake.

He remembered what Aurie said - to flood the mind with memories, so that the invader only sees what he wants them to see. He thought about the train ride to Hogwarts. The way Blaise, Theo and Pansy were looking at him like he was a stranger: only a person with a Dark Mark. That was something they’d want to see, his loyalty to the cause. He thought about being given his mark, and Snape’s first meeting with him: all things a Death Eater would want to see. Loyalty.

Draco left out his mission from his focus on memories. Acquire was blissfully unaware to it, and he dated she would be receptive to hearing him talk about. Then again, she’d been receptive to a whole lot already.

He felt the cold leave his body, and his fingertips were feeling again. Aurie had released the spell. 

“That was decent, though a trained Witch or Wizard would see right through what you were doing”

“What do you mean? You said to flood my mind”

“With happy memories, Draco, not ones where I could feel the dread, the dishonesty and the uncertainty. Any Death Eater would have taken you straight to him if they saw what I just did. It was painfully obvious you don’t want it”

Draco stalled. It was inevitable, he knew that. He knew that eventually someone would look him in the eyes and tell him exactly what he had been denying to himself, He didn’t want it, he never wanted any of it.

“What do I do?” he repeated the question he had asked before, this time quieter.

“You have to pick something with meaning and happiness. But don't let it consume you. If you can let yourself feel the happiness and loyalty from another memory while you show something else … you’ll be able to trick them. Feel one memory, show the other”

“Fell one memory, show the other” he repeated quietly, Aurie retrained her wand at his forehead for him to try again.

Draco closed his eyes and prepared for the cold to wash over his body.

Feel one memory, show the other.

***

At 9:16 exactly Hermione came rushing through the common room doors with tears streaming down her face. If Draco hadn't seen it once before that day before he’d apparated to the Manor he thought he’d flinch at the sight. But no, instead both him and Aurie instantly stood when Hermione ran in.

Aurie was the one to run to her whereas Draco stood frozen at the carpet, he was slightly impressed with himself for managing to stand after what Aurie had just put him through.

“Hermione what happened?” Aurie cooed, taking Hmerione by her forearms and leading her to the armchairs.

“No just, not now. I’m sorry I interrupted, I’ll just go to my room” Hermione tried to wipe a tear with the back of her hand, but Aurie’s grip on both her forearms made it so she was unable to move them very much.

“Hermione, sit” Aurie said nicely while also pushing the flustered witch rather aggressively into the sitting area for Hermione to sit down. 

He watched Hermione curled into herself, hugging her knees to her chest like she had so many times when he’d found her asleep in that very spot. It was a happy sight before, where she was at peace, but now all Draco could think was fear.

“Draco, Tea” Aurie shooed him off, wanting to talk to Hermione alone. Draco silently obliged, an angry Hermione meant accidental teases would likely end with him in the infirmary puking slugs. He obliged but silently cast an extendable ear charm to listen in to their conversation.

“Was it Cormac again, I saw him eyeing you at the Hufflepuff game and he looked like he mightt try something?”

“No, no”

“Okay good, I swear that boy is terrorizing the whole school with his inability to contain himself and his dick”

“It was Ron” even through the charm, he only picked up Hermione's voice as a whisper.

“Ron, How?”

“He kissed Lavender after the game, in the common room in front of everyone …”

“Oh Hermione, I’m sorry didn’t realize you fancied him still...”

“No… no I don't. What he said to me after…” Draco felt his chest tightened. Ronald Weasley had hurt Hermione, her best friends had brought her to tears with another girl on his arm. Not only that, but at some point or another Hermione fancied with ginger weasel, or still did and Hermione was deflecting from Aurie.

“He found me comforting Harry in one of the staircases by Gryffindor Tower. Ginny was with Dean, and well Harry’s not even attempting to conceal his emotions and he was upset seeing them together. I was trying to comfort him, when Ron and Lavender came in. She made a comment about me and Harry ‘taking that tower’ insinuating something …I told her off of course but then Ron …. He”

“He what Hermione? C’mon don’t make me bring in Draco for more invasive tactics, he’ll take your wand again no doubt?” there was a faint trace of a giggle though the charm, Draco couldn't tell which girl it came from.

“After Lavender’s comment he said ‘it's not Mione’s fault no one can see past her hair to her face, she’d have better luck without all that birds nest… or not, depending on what's under there’, I just can’t believe … he knows I don’t …. I was teased for so long …. Even bought flatners... And magical solutions”

Hermione was talking gibberish through tears now and Draco’s hand was shaking as he added the ungodly amount of honey to his and hermione's tea, placing the jar beside Aurie’s cup - unsure how she took it. Draco tried to chalk up his shaky fingers to the numbness of now slipping away from his joints, but he’d be lying if he heard her crying through the charm wasn’t affecting him in any way.

The pang under his ribs was constant now, an ache and wretched feeling that he wasn’t sure how to ease, but it only got worse the louder her cries got.

When Draco relaxed his extendable ear charm, and brought the cups of tea out to the sitting area he found Hermione now claimed down. Without tears streaming down her cheeks, there were still the renddes on her nose and the puffiness in her eyes that gave away her recent meltdown. 

Draco wished Aurie weren't there for a twisted monet. Wished the couple wrap Hermione up in the red quilt on the armchair, place a kiss on her temple, and run to beat the shit out of Ronald Weasley.

Hermione looked at him with wide eyes as she took the teacup from his extended hand, then she spoke.

“Do you, do you still think my hair is bad? You used …. Used to tease about it every day...I just want to know. Is it … that bad?”

Draco tried to salvage a sincere smile, but it came out as a huff while he suppressed a small bout of laughter. It was just as bad as it had always been: well, slightly less frizzy. She had managed to define her crazy curls and made them look like a halo around her. They were exactly the same chaotic messes they had always been… but it wasn’t bad. He wasn't sure when he decided they weren't bad. 

“Exactly the same Granger” Hermione’s face fell “But, that doesn’t make it a bad thing”

“I think you’ll be taken care of here , Hermione.” Draco made a mental note to chastise Auire the following Monday for the insinuation he made in front of Hermione. It was well and fine for the person who could literally be inside his head to know about his soft spot, but he’d rather she be kept in the dark.

Aurie left the common room without another word and Hermione remained curled in on her leg on the armchair, his armchair, the fact made him internally giddy. She had picked it, no one was seated in hers when Aurie pushed her into the common room, she picked his chair.

“You didn’t have to say that '' Hermione whispered from beside him, Draco looked at her with bewilderment on his face. “You didn’t have to say my hair wasn’t bad… if it is I’d rather you tell me. If people think it’s really that bad i’ll start charming it to be straight, like I did in fifth year”

“Ronald Weasley is a fucking arse and you know that” was the only response Draco gave with s mug smirk on his lips.

He remembered seeing her hair flat in fifth year. Closer to the end of the year he had barely recognized her. He thought she was a Greengrass sister at first, it was the Gryffindor robes that gave her away.

He wasn’t sure if it was the assurance when Hermione didn't protest his statement, or the fact that she had pointedly told Auire that she did not fancy Ronald Weasley. Either way, he was content to know that She didn't praise him like she had the years prior.

“You just used to comment on it a lot… if it's bad tell me… ” she protested, not taking his stab at Weasley as an answer to her hair. Honestly, why did girls care so much about their hair? Yes it was sometimes lively to look at, or grab at depending on the situation, but really what was it of such importance?

“I mean what I said to Granger. That’s all you’ll get from me” Lair, it's gorgeous, it's bloody gorgeous. A chocolate halo of perfectio that he’d imagined grabbing her by the shwer during his morning routine.

He didn’t turn to look at her ace, completely terrified that if he did he’d feel compelled to grab her face in his hands and press a kiss to her temple that he’d thought about doing before. He just listened to her breathing in silence until it evened out and he knew she was asleep.

***

Hermione locked herself in her bedroom for the remainder of the weekend, and Draco had to fight the urge to beat Ronald Weasley into pulp because of it.

The first time he saw her after she had fallen asleep in the common room was in Potions class on Monday. Draco was almost thankful that Aurie had run to her first, followed closely by Harry who looked more than eager to leave Weasley in the loving care of Lavender Brown.

Once again, Draco didn’t notice his eyes wandering over to her table constantly through the lesson. Or how he planned his own trips to the supply closet when she did hers, or how he’d messed up chopping the herbs too finley because he was burning holes into the back of Weasley’s head.

He didn’t notice until Blaise did.

“Take my advice did you?” He smoked, leading to the side to whisper to him. They were the only two at their potions table, both Pansy and Theo were strangely absent.

“So what if I did?” he shot back, wanting desperately to avoid the conversation.

“Well I hope you’ve had your fun, and now you can forget about it”

That startled Draco. Blaise had always been the supportive type, Whatever Draco had set his mind to Blaise seemed to support his decision, evenheloing him out along the way. When he asked for help in fifth year requiring members of Umbridge's “Inquisitorial Squad '', he helped, even if neither of them were particularly fond of the pink devil. Both had confessed to each other that they only joined the club in order to gain respect in their families, they had leaned on each other that year.

When he asks for help pulling the 'stunt' of Hermione at the start of term to get the Senior Prefect position, Blaise plays a crucial role. When Blaise realized that Draco smelled Hermione’s shampoo in his Amortentia, he encouraged him to do something before he went more mad than he already felt. Blaise was strangely supportive of Slytherin. He had been at least until now it seemed.

“What do you mean” he asked quietly, eyes still locked across the room where Aurie and Hermione were chatting to themselves over their bubbling cauldron.

“I mean, you’ve scratched the itch until it bled. Now put a healing charm on it and forget it” The metaphor was not lost to Draco. Scratch it: Hermionee, then forget it: forget her.

But he didn’t want to.

By rational thinking he should: it would end badly on both their end if he tried something. But he had grown used to the pang in his chest when he saw her upset. He’d grown used to the calmness she brought, the sweet smell of her shampoo, and the way she could easily be in a room with him and not expect something from him.

He didn’t want to let that go yet, he wasn’t ready to.

“Right, yeah scratched the itch” he said slowly, drawing out the syllables.

Blaise looked at him for a moment longer, and Draco had to force his eyes to look down at his potions textbook and away from the girls across the room. Even if Blaise didn’t believe him about Hermione, which Draco suspected he didn’t, he couldn't let him start to think there was something with Aurie.

Draco had started watching her closely too. He noticed a handful of times where she didn't light the fires under her cauldron’s with a match or her wand. She would just place her hand on the ignition spot when no one was looking. No one would ever notice, unless they looked at her eyes; then they would find bright golden irises the minute the flames caught. Distantly most of these times were when she was partnered with Hermione or himself, though a few times with other students as well who were just oblivious.

Draco had begun to wonder about the properties of the magic she possessed. He wondered if the fire that plucked from her magical signature was magical in properties, if it contained magical elements that differed from regular flames. 

Did her fires burn people? He’d never asked. He’d been told the Dark Lord would want to use her if he knew she existed, so that had to mean her flames were destructive. Possibly beyond the regular capabilities too.

He made a mental note to ask on Wednesday when Aurie was coming to the common room next to teach him occlumency. Blaise’s voice cut his train of questions short, and Draco realized he’d been staring at the same page of his textbook for far too long while he was thinking.

“That little Mudblood really has done a number on you. Was she good?”

Draco didn’t know what made the rage in him appear first. The slur that Draco had come to stop using, or the insulation from Blaise about Hermione’s performance. He thought he’d shagged her, not kissed her.

It knocked the wind out of him slightly, the unexpectedness of the comment, the sure, the insuention. Blaise was blind to the confusing reality but had no reserves in creating an equally confusing one himself. Draco knew the truth had to be concealed indefinitely, for all three of their sakes. Composing himself, he retained and answered.

“You know I don’t kiss and tell Blaise”

“Guess that’s true. Maybe I’’ go ask your Mudblood whore then?”

Draco froze momentarily, the rage and fury building inside him. He couldn’t stop himself before he shouted.

“YOU WILL NOT!” he bellowed, his voice filling the dungeon potions room.

Draco felt a dozen pairs of eyes on him instantly. He couldn't remember Blaise using that slur before, if he had it wasn;t on his own accord, he'd been following the other's lead. He’d not heard him say Mudblood, much less add “whore” or another crude language that demeaned a girl before.

“Mr Malfoy, Mr Zabini. What seems to be the problem here?”

Blaise opened his mouth to speak but Draco cut him off, fearing he’d say something about him staring off at Hermione.

“My partner is using some rather foul language professor. I think It would be best hat we do this assignment separately”

Slughorn’s face remained rather passive as he looked between his two students. Quizzically he turned to look around the room where many other students were still staring, though most of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had presumed their world, notably it was just Gryffindr’s and Slytherins staring: typical house rivalry.

“Ah alright then. Mr Mafloy if you wish to move their is an extra cauldron pot at Miss Granger’s and Miss Francis’s table”

Draco nodded, picking up his textbook and ingredients happlity to mve. “Thank your professor” he said as he slid into the stool beside Hermione. She looked beyond confused, and slightly enraged. Draco only could guess how enraged the witch would be if she knew the contents of the feud between him and Blaise.

Draco began laying out ingredients, and set a small fire with a quiet “incendio” under his cauldron.

“What the hell was that about?” Hermione whispered from beside him. Her tone was clipped and shark, almost demanding instead of asking.

“Now, now” he huffed, teasing. “Is that any way to talk to the person who just defended your honour?”

Hermione stilled, and Draco saw her eyes widen slightly as she gingerly reached for her vial of acromantula venom. Sensing her uncertainty, Draco took the opportunity to vocalize his intentions since their conversation the day after he and Aurie had returned from the Manor.

He leaned over to whisper in her ear and he was instantly it with a wave of her intoxicating scent. He couldn't tell who was really wafting the sweetness, it could have been either of them or both, since he had never stalled using her shampoo in his showers.

He felt her tense beside his fram as he loomed over her shoulder from behind her. Her table was tucked in the back corner, out of eyesight from most other tables, and Draco wasn’t considered he would be caught leaning over her in the manor. He leaned down, only centimetres for her ear, he knew he was close enough that his breath tickled her ear.

“I told you I would prove what ‘grey’ meant Granger '' his voice was almost silent to ensure that only she would hear, and that Aurie wouldn't catch a glimpse of their conversion from her other side of Hermione.

Hermione adublity exhaled a breath Draco wasn’t sure he noticed her holding. As he backed away he didn’t chance another look at her, he knew she wouldn't either. 

Draco looked over to where Blaise was scowling at him, and then trend slightly to see Aurie smiling up at him from Hermione's other side and he could only think one thing in that moment. 

he really needed out.


	22. Rules Were Made to be Broken

6th Year, December 16th 

Three weeks went by largely uneventful.

Aurie came to the Senior Prefects Common Room twice a week on Wednesdays and Saturdays. They had made abysmal progress in Draco’s ability to defend actual legilimens. 

Conjuring memories of playing quidditch to flood his mind was easy enough when Aurie only used the ‘legilimens’ spell on Draco. When she insisted one and a half weeks in that occlumency against spells wouldn’t be enough, that’s where he started to falter. 

Being a Leglimins, Aurie never favoured learning Occlumency herself. She could easily enough just penetrate the mind of another attacker who only used a spell, effectively turning their spell against them. Or, on the off chance she was fending off another Legilimins, she could simply turn her mind off. 

It wasn’t technically an occlumency to turn one's mind off, and only Leglimins and particularly skilled natural occlumens were known to be able to do it - usually only in dire circumstances with adrenaline running too. 

A skill Draco was close to begging for at this point.

Blaise had all but been shooting him in a broom closet and hexing him senseless. The ferocity of his growing animosity towards him was evident with enough courage to change a look that lasted more than a few seconds at the pair of slytherins. 

Blaise didn’t sit beside him in the Great Hall, instead Theo sat between them, and Pansy stil across; looking more awkward than he felt. Blaise would refuse to work with him in potions class. Either sabotaging their ingredient, or overboiling their cuaudern in Slughorn nisted that it was ‘partnered exercise’. 

Hermione was a whole other reason for wanting to turn his brain off for a second. 

While he hadn’t bearded him with questions after the potions class in which he teased her a new light, she had lingered in the common room more frequently when Aurie was around. Brewing tea and waiting idly in case Aurie really did break him like she had teased. 

It didn’t help that his crude showers turned longer with more vivid imagery. The more time he spent around her, the more habits he picked up on that made his mind run wild in the steamy chamber. 

She tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous, he noticed that the first time she had watched Aurie had used natural legitimacy on him and he nearly when white he was so pale. The next morning in his shower session, he pictured her tucking her hair behind her ears as he stared at her naked body. 

She bit her lip when she was uncomfortable. He noticed that tendency when he had leered over her frame in potions class and whispered about defending her honour. All he could think about the rest of the day was biting that lip for her; dragging it through his teeth as he kissed her senseless. 

The worst was her habit of sleeping in oversized jumpers - only oversized jumpers.

That habit, or custom, he had accidentally stumbled upon one night after failing to fall asleep after a meeting with Snape on Friday where he had been told his mission was on pause until further notice. A light weight off his shoulders, only to have more beared down with the reveal of a secret sister. 

But that night they'd accidentally stumbled upon Gryffindor So Innocent Princess curled in on herself in the window seat in an oversized muggle jumper and nothing on her bare legs. He thanked, and cursed, any deity he could think of that her jumper covered her partly down her thighs. He wasn;t sure what he’d do with himself if it didn’t. 

She was curled cozily against the cushions of the window seat, a book haphazardly strewn in front of her. She had fallen asleep reading in the moonlight, likely recovering from a nightmare he hadn’t heard because of his warded bedroom. Draco had the half -working brain to not try and wake her up, fearing her reaction to him seeing her in that state. 

The next morning he showered for double the time. 

Hermione Granger was decidedly the main reason he wanted to turn his brain off.

Especially after she came out of her bedroom Saturday evening in a muggle, baby pink tea dress and knocked any breath in his lungs completely out. The familiar pang etched its way under his ribs, as he stared compley wordless.

He was done for. He was so done for. 

Slughorn’s Christmas Party was that evening, and as a tentative member of the “Slug Club’, Hermione was attending. Dateless, may he add, a fact that kept his brain from telling her to stay in the common room, kick Aurie out, and rip the piece of silky fabric from her body.

It was the final night before the students filed home for Christmas Break, a break that all three of them were not really getting that year. 

Draco and Hermione were required to stay as Senior Prefects, and Aurie had told Remus and Tonks that it was best that she stay at Hogwarts. To the Order they played it off as Hermione not being alone, but the three of them knew it was to keep her there with Draco in case something happened. 

“My, My, My don't you look dashing?” Aurie teased, standing from draco side, abounding her wand where it had been pointed between his brows and going over to help Hermione who was failing to clip the necklace at the base of her throat. 

“Dressed up for someone special?” She teases again, taking the chain in her hands, and turning her forcefully so that Hermione locks eyes with Draco when she is forced to respond. 

“No, I told you I’m going alone. I just wanted to get dressed up nicely for once. Even did my hair” Hermione whispered, clearly intending only Aurie to hear, Draco heard anyway. 

Indeed, Hermione had tamed her hair to lay almost entirely flat. It curved around her shoulders and ears and was clipped back with elegent clips to keep strands from falling in her face. Aurie nodded her head in awka longmont to Hermione comment. 

Draco decided very quickly that he didn’t like her hair - she wasn't her without her hair. And as he took an accidental step towards them into her airspace, he noticed that whatever charm or potion she had used to achieve that style, had taken away the scent of her shampoo. She no longer smelled like Honey Soap, and Draco didn’t like that. 

“Well you look lovely Hermione” Aurie gushed, smirking sideways in Draco’s direction; willing him to comment. Auire had become somewhat relentless in her want for him to make a move. He thought her whole idea juvenile. 

“Muggle dress, really Granger? It is a magical Christmas Party” stupid; that was stupid he thought. 

‘Nice one’ Aurie teased in his head through their magic. Another trick she’d easily adapted, teasing him about his inadequacy at attempts through her legitimacy. No one but him could hear after all - she could get jokes in at precise the right moment. 

“Well Slughorn did not specify a dress code, merely that it was formal. I know that Luna and the Patil twins are also attending in muggle dresses, so I don’t think it matters. But talking in your attire, I don’t think you have room to comment '' Hermione responded both coldy and hiking as she eyes him up and down, he was still wearing his sleeping clothes. 

“Go on Hermione,” Aurie ushered the witch past the sitting area dn to the portrait door. “And because tomorrow is our first day of Christmas break, I promise not to break him tonight” she gestured back to Draco. 

Draco for his part was staring at Hermione in a way that was surly creepy on her end, though no one commented on it. He couldn't tear away his gaze from her, her shoulders bared, her waist tightly cupsted by the pink fabric, she was ethereal. 

If Aurie didn’t break him tonight, Hermione might have just by standing there any longer. 

Suddenly realizing that both girls were looking at him, expecting some sort of comment, he stuttered and responded in a way which could please both of them. 

“Doubt that” the words tickled off his tongue “ Granger will likely be returning once again to me on an armchair, unable to move” 

He tried his best to manage a smirk, though the one Aurie was flashing was intently better than his. Hermione looked apprehensive. 

She slipped through the portrait with a haze of pink fabric and olive skin, and then it was just him and his sister standing in the common room. 

“You know you should watch where your eyes linger,” Aurie said, coming to stand in front of him. 

“Shut up” he whispered, taking his seat again on the carpet, submitting his mind to be tortured once again. 

A sharp knock against the stonewall interrupted both of them. Draco from adjusting his placement, and Aurie from requiring her discarded wand on the floor from when she went to Hermione’s side. They shot each other a warning glance - it wasn’t Hermione, she wouldn't knock; it was someone else, someone who they would have to explain why she was able to be inside. 

“I’ll go to Hermione's room, no wards” Draco heard Aurie say in his own head before she slipped inside the door. He bee-lined for the door, only opening it a crack before audibly sighing at the sight of Theodore Nott. 

He looked frazzled and hazed, almost euphoric but also temblingin what looked like masked fear to Draco. 

Draco suddenly realized that Theo was fumbling with his dress robes, and failing to tie his bowtie under his collar. 

“You gotta help me mate, god, I don’t, I don't… I don’t know what to do'' Theo gasped, one arm leaning on the wall where he had just knocked to avoid the wards. 

“Don’t know what” Draco half-laughed, taking the bowtie that Theo was failing to tie currently into his own hands to assist. A simple gesture, he’d been tough to tie a bowtie from a young age. 

“Pansy” 

“Pansy?” he inquired. 

“Well Blaise is a member of the Slug Club and so is Pansy … and I … I thought they were just going together by default… right? … well she came to my dorm like fifteen minutes ago and asked me to go with her….” 

“Take my advice did you?” Draco snicked and Theo bowed his head. 

“May have gone out of my way to be a gentleman... brought her tea while she read, tried to charm paper cranes like you used to do” he whispered. 

“Seems like it worked” Draco remarked, setting Theo’s bowtie fully in place. Draco chanced a look back to Hermione's bedroom were Aurie was concealed, the door was only ajar by a crack - purposeful, meaning she was listening

“You have to come with me” Theo stared blankly. 

“Theo don’t be ridiculous” 

“Mate I’m serious. I need a wing-man. Slughorn likes you enough, he won't care that you’re not in his silly little club. Draco I’m saying please?” 

Theo doesn’t say please. 

Draco dismissed the thought entirely until the flash of pink came into his mind. 

Hermione Granger in that fucking muggle dress was going to be the death of him.

He wanted to dismiss Theo, shut the door and tell him he could get Pansy wrapped around his finger on his own. But the idea of just seeing her in the dress for just a few more minutes had him agreeing and retreating into the common room to put on his favorable all black suit. 

Aurie was waiting for him once he emerged from his bedroom, eyebrows raised in triumph and arms crossed smugly over her chest. Draco glared at her. She didn’t need to say a word to get her point across and neither did he. They both knew exactly why he had agreed.

Dressed ready for a formal event, the two Slytherin boys walked the corridors to the west wing where Slughorn was hotsing his Christmas event. 

The room was decorated with too many warm colors and it made Draco uncomfortable. His Mother had also hosted Chirtsmas in Slytherin greens and silvers, with gold to accent it- though even the gold was never his favourite as it reminded him too much of Gryffindor. Never had he seen so much red in a place that wasn’t the Gryffindor Quidditch stands. 

Theo was fucking beaming beside him as his eyes searched for Pansy. He quickly found her, clad in a barely there silver dress and laughing with Blaise and a few fellow Slytherins. Theo didn’t give Draco a chance to think or make an excuse for himself to find Hermione, he just grabbed Draco by the arm of his suit jacket and pulled him in their direction.

Pansy smiled seeing the pair of them, and Blaise absolutely avoided Draco’s eyes, still favouring ignoring him. 

“Well I see you got Mr Grumpy out of his common room” Pansy laughed, nodding to them. 

“I don’t know, I think Blaise now has that title” Theo jokes, no one but Draco picked up on the nervousness in his voice, or the way he picked the spot on his cuffs as she met Pansy’s eyes. 

“Oi Nott, a word” Blaise called, beckoning him over under the guise of an unfamed insult. 

Slipping away, Draco was left with Pansy in a strangely uncomfortable silence. He hadn’t realized just how weird being her in secane was going to be, until he was alone with her; there was unfinished business he had not accounted for in the whirlwind that had become his life in the past few weeks. 

“So…” he drawled “ Theo?” he questioned, attempting anything to sway any conversation. 

“He was there” Pansy falsely remade, looking directly at him “ you weren’t” 

Draco huffed, meaning it to be out of annoyance, but found it came out more like jealousy. That was not intentional, and definitely not directed at her. No - it was directed at Saint Fucking Potter who he had just watched dissapear behind a curtain with a flash of pink that was undoubtedly Hermione. 

“Hmmmm… well he’s a nice change from ‘Mr Dark and Gloomy’ as you put it” he snarked in Pany’s direction, eyes never leaving the semi-see through curtain. He could make out their outlines, not touching; good. 

“Not so gloomy recently” Pansy tipped her glass back, and Draco daily wondered if someone bothered to spike it that evening, that would surely help him right now. 

“What’s it to you?” At this point he was responding on impulse not interest. 

“Well you were all dark and gloomy because of your top secret mission to the Dark Lord” His eyes snapped at her in her direction, “ Now that you’re not I can’t help but think you’ve resolved it … or completed it”.

Draco said nothing, just stared at her and tried to hide the questions and confusion on his face. Of course his fellow slytherins would assume his heightened mood was because of his fated mission to Voldemort. Of course they wound’t even think it was about some long-lost sister, learning occluency to disguise pain, and Hermione Fucking Granger in a pink dress. 

Of course. 

“If you had though, you could have told us… tell us our ~oh~ so~ secret~ mission that you’ve accomplished… or that you haven’t accomplished and bailed out of” she winked. 

“I-” he started. 

“Well, Well… what do we have here?” Snape’s voice cut Draco’s attempt at an excuse short. 

Behind Professor Snape stood a far too happy Filch and Cormac McClaggen, whom Draco now assumed was his solicitor, his witness, his reason for being caught at the party uninvited. He should have expected someone to rat him out, actually spurpsoed the room didn’t burst into bright red Gryffindor flames the second he stepped foot into it - there was no immediate uproar- but there would be one soon. 

“Told you I’d caught him gatecrashing” Cormac snickered. 

Draco looked around and found several eyes watching the scene unfold. Recently it had become a normalcy in his life, having several eyes watching his misfortunes unravel. He didn’t expect however Hermione to be one of those, expected she’d still be behind that curtain with Fucking Potter - not looking at him with confusion scrambled all over her face. 

He was after all, supposed to be in the common room with Aurie; he, Snape, and Hermione knew that. Thankfully for the time being he was the only one in the room who was aware of why he was not in the common room with Aurie. 

“Yeah, Yeah, alright. I was gatecrashing” Draco rasped out, attempting to go along with Cormac’s storyline. 

Anything was better than the truth. 

“I’ll escort Mr Malfoy back to his dorms.” Snape’s voice silenced Cormac’s protests about delivering him to McGonagell or Dumbledore. 

Grabbing him by the elbow, Snape’s usually form of forced imposing movement, he pulled Draco out of the party area and into the dark Hallway and roughly shoving him against the wall. 

“You insolent boy. You know exactly where you are supposed to be”

“Professor…” he tried to speak. 

“Silence. Your attempt at using Katie Bell was foolish and indigent. When the Carrows didn’t come you should have come straight back to the castle. You’re lucky she woke up and didn’t remember a thing, seems to have hit her head in the process” He paused, reassessing the situation and his weeks old tyrant to Draco. He’d said it all before, never as ruthless, but stern all the same. 

Snape raised his hand to pinch the bridge of long crooked nose, a frustrating habit.” But your job now is to let that girl in the room teach you Occlumency so that you don’t give her away to the Dark Lord. Do you understand me? He gets his hands on her, and we are likely all dead.” 

Draco only nodded, shocked by his usually stoic professors harsh tone and aggressive behaviour. 

“You will return to your dorm, and resume your training. I’ve notified your Mother that you are being obedient, do not force me to change that report” 

Draco gawked, He knew it was likely that Snape had been asked by his mother to watch his progress, but didn’t imagine that Narcissa Malfoy had demanded updates in his spying. He should have expected it really, his Mother had been meddling in his supposed mission from day one - this would absolutely be no different. 

“And my mission, sir?” Draco asked, remembering Pansy’s questions and inventions about the mission. He’d been asked about it, and had been caught in a strong ‘lumos’ unknown of how to respond. 

“Your mission is on hold for the moment. You will not discuss the mission detail with anyone aside from myself and your Mother. That includes other recruits and War generals. Is this understood” 

He had to think about the implication, and potential secrecy of his mission before nodding to Snape and hurrying down the hallway back to his common room. 

That was a rather strange and complicated series of events; he thought to himself 

*** 

“It's not working” He gasped breathlessly, the warmth of the common room air slowly seeping underneath his skin as the cold fog of Legitimacy gave away. 

“I told you Quidditch and Treacle Tarts are only going to work for so long, you need a brighter memory” he sighed, clearly exhausted from continuously forcing her way into his mind after his many failed attempts at flooding his head with false emotions and real memories. 

“I haven't gotten a better bloody memory” 

“Bollocks” 

“Pardon me?” 

“You heard me - boll-ocks! I know you’ve got more, and if what I saw tonight, I think you know exactly what I mean” 

“That… that doesn't mean anything. There’s more shame and guilt tied to that than anything” he gasped, knowing exactly what Aurie was hinting at - Hermione being his source of happiness, of loyalty, of how he could trick a Legilimins and flood his emotions. 

But Hermione wasn’t a happy feeling. Was she even a feeling? He was mostly ashamed for his feelings, or whatever he had towards her. He’d been unwilling to fully recognize them as feelings. It was more of a drawing urge, and relentlessly hard to fight compulsion to her, maybe even attraction -but feelings were questionable. 

Even then, the likelihood of any happiness or happy compulsion of memory flooding he could conjure with her, would likely give away quickly and the memory of her would be plain as day, like quidditch and sweets. He’d hold it for a few seconds, and then Aurie could see the original memory behind whatever death eater present memory he tried to veil it with. 

Hermione wasn’t tangible. It wouldn’t be enough. 

“Try it once. Think of one time, you felt safe or happy with her. I know there is one. It doesn’t have to be tonight, it could be anything tied to her. But just try it once.” 

He’d resigned himself weeks ago to Aurie’s teaching methods, no matter how silly they seemed. Furthermore, she was just as stubborn as he was, and she wouldn't drop the subject no matter how hard he tried to dissuade her. He’d have to prove her wrong to make her stop. 

“Fine, we are trying to break two minutes, right?” he asked, glancing at the clock to note the time, 9:34.

One of her techniques was timing how long he could fend off a mental attack. Most legilimins couldn't go past five minutes of the mental strength it took to invade another’s mind. But particularly skilled ones were known to be able to maintain awareness for ten minutes. 

Draco had never broke two minutes. 

“Ready” she pointed her eyes right at him, and placed her finger on his temple between his eyebrows. 

He felt her burrowing in as the cold seeped back through his skin, A shiver ran up his spine and the pads of his fingertips instantly numb from cold. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the feeling of natural legilimins impeeding on his mind. 

He saw Death eater robes in his vision. Black robes, silber and while maskas. All in the Malfoy manor entry way for the first time since Voldemort returned. It was a passive ememneroy, but one he hated. There was no emotional recluse to it, it just marked the beginning to and end, and there Draco couldn't muster true good feelings about it, about loyalty to it. 

He scrambled to find a memory potentially strong enough to grasp and flood the image with. The Midnight walks swam into view. The feel of cold hair against his burning skin, the silent ripple of the black lake in the cold breeze, and the constant thought of Hermione, bundled up and warm by his side. 

He latched onto the memory instantly. Cold air, warm bodies, brushing a single curl away with his finger instantly. She hadn't moved. He remembered that she hand't moved and it stirred something inside him, both then and now. The pang in his chest returned as the cold numbness from Aurie’s legitimacy swam up his body. That was a feeling - it had to be. 

But then the memory crumbled, the death eater’s faded away in the forefront of the image, and Aurie was pulling out of his head, seeing him and Hermione standing by the Black Lake under the Moonlight. 

“I told you it wouldn't work” he sighed, leaning back into his armchair. 

“It did, to an exenet” she breathed, Aurie looked exponentially more tired then before and Draco chanced a look at the clock.

9:38. He’d held her off for four minutes, a personal best, and proving her right. 

“I don’t wanna hear it” he sighed, almost wincing back into the velvet of the chair’s cushions, knowing a pointed comment was coming. 

“Fine, I’ll save my ‘i told you so’s’ for later. We’re going again, and I'm going to time you for five minutes. If you last that long…” 

“Then what? We stop? Like Hell. We keep going until I break or someone finds you, that’s surely my Mother’s deal in all of this.” 

“Likely… I don’t know the extent of her deal. I just follow what Lupin tells me to do.”

“Remus Lupin?” Draco questioned, he hadn't heard the name of his old Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor since the last time Aurie had mentioned him - and then it wasn’t a close contact, he was only married to her “kind of sisters' '. 

“Yes Lupin. He told me I was required to follow through with Whatever Professor Snape demanded in terms of your training and my secrecy. My best guess is that all of his requirements come directly from your Mother” 

“Our Mother” he tried to correct her, she snapped back. 

“Your Mother, Draco”

“So Lupin and Snape are in cahoots with each other in all this?” He was confused why Death Eater Severus Snape was highly acquainted with Order of the Phoenix Member and werewolf Remus Lupin. Why either of them would be in each other's prescience if not required, like it had been when they were both teachers.

“I told Lupin the about all that happened. He seems to think that doing what your Mother insists is the best way to keep me protected” Draco didn’t miss how carefully Aurie had worded her response to avoid the question, but paused in his bout to press her forwards. 

He was tired and cold. The longer he had to fend of Legitimacy, the longer the cold stayed in his body before rippling out.

“We’re done for the night because now I have to try and descrable why the hell the memory of Hermione Fucking Granger is the memeory that lets me fend you off longer than the others” 

“Its because you-” 

“Don’t finish that senate. I can’t …. I can’t …. As soon as I accept that, I have another thing to worry about. I’m already worried about Snape, My Mother, and protecting you from whatever the hell the Dark Lord will do to you when he finds out you are alive, or worse what he’ll do to our mother. I can’t have another thing to worry about Aurie… worst of all that it can’t be her. She’s Saint Fucking Potter’s best freind. Yeah I’m sure that’ll go over real well with him. Hell I’m sure it'll go really well with her too… imagine it .. I’ll get slapped again” 

There was so much sarcasm dripping from his voice, there was pai mixed with fury, but above all, he was so uncertain. Uncertain of what it would all mean to him, to her, to his mission, to his life if he admitted it. He had feelings for Granger, a fact of life was not going to accept. 

“So no … do not … do not finish that sentence” He finished his ramble, and found Aurie with wide eyes and tentative hands reaching for him, he yanked her away simply. 

“Fine” She huffed, standing and reaching for the door.

Draco turned away and raked a hand through his hair- his nervous habit, that Hermione surely had never picked up on like he had with hers. 

He had a chance. He took it, but he still didn't know what it meant; what any of it meant. fuck, he had no idea what 'grey' meant. 'Grey' to sides in this war? 'Grey' in his feelings? Were they feelings?

“Oh” he heard Aurie faintly whisper as the door creaked open. “I think I did break him this time. Sorry Hermione”

The door closed, and the click of heels filled the silent void of the common room. He knew she was standing behind him, in the fucking pink muggle dress, poroably realing with joy from the Christmas party. And now she was home to him, brooding and uncertain, angry and confused. 

And desperate, he was so fucking desperate. 

Honey Soap. Touch. The Pink Dress. 

Her.

“Draco” she placed a tentative hand on his shoulder, the way one would place a hand on a skittish animal - slow and scared. 

“Just go” he whispered back, not even trying to hide the hollow desperation in his voice. It filled both their ears and Hermione sucked in a breath. 

He felt her body behind him shift to stand back away from him, and he chanced a look back at her. He found her even more breathtaking than when she had left the common room at the beginning of the evening. The charm or potion she had used to tame her hair had started to wear away, leaving her hair a wavy, puffy blast around her head like a halo of chocolate coffee curls. She looked like her again.

Her cheeks were flushed, either from embarrassment or heat. The dress was the same, though Draco figured nothing needed changing in that part. Nothing ever needed changing to be exact, she just looked more herself with her pink-tinged cheeks and puffy hair. He liked it. 

Fuck; he liked it. 

If that wasn't bad enough her next words blindsided him completely, and nearly knocked him fully off his feet. 

“It wouldn't have gotten you slapped by the way” 

She’d heard. She's heard enough to know what he was grappling with about her and he pulled almost instantly.  
The next seconds seemed like an eternity as silence once again filled the thicker of the common room. 

He just stared at her, almost blankly, and she thought she’d made a grave error. Miscalculated his defeated appearance, misheard his conversation about the Black Lake, and her, and how she was complicating his entire life. It wouldn't have gotten him slapped if he told her, and she wasn’t sure how long she would say that would have rung true in the past. But it was true now, that's what mattered. 

Somewhere around their walks at midnight, tears by the window seat, and his little touches of her cheek and hair when he thought she was asleep. That’s where it changed for her. 

Draco was not oblivious to the way her eyes flickered with doubt, and that was the moment it completely changed for him. 

Doubt meant intent. Intent for him, truth and reconciliation. She was being honest, that she had heard, and she was implying a mutual understanding.

“What was the punishment for breaking your rules again Granger?” he asked shakily, and he brows furrowed in confusion at his sudden question. He took a step closer to her, unsure of his plan and her reaction. He prayed to Merlin that it wouldn't send her running for the hills.

“What my, what -” she didn’t get to finish her sentence, cut off by her own squeak as Draco backed her into the wall beside the bookshelf in the sitting room. Hands pushing lightly at her shoulders to do so, and he felt the warmth spread from her shoulder into her fingertips that were still cold from the legitimacy. 

“The consequence for breaking rule three” he asked in a low voice that sent shivers up her spine. 

Her voice seemed to echo in both their ears as they remembered Hermione's initial rules on their first night in the dorm - ‘ Do not make any advances towards me, and I think you know what I mean by that. Malfoy’-

Draco searched her face for a moment as she thought, one hand snaking around her shoulder to rest on her upper back skin exposed by the backline of her pink dress. 

That fucking pink dress, that’s what was making his mind crazy - he couldn't decide if he wanted her to never stop wearing it or if he wanted to rip it off her body right then and there. 

Then a bright smile flashed across her face and a devilish look in her eyes sparkled at Draco as she spoke. 

“It doesn’t matter if I’m the one who breaks it” he could feel her whispered breath across his lips and she looked up at him. 

She kissed him. 

Soft, warm, and without pause. 

She kissed him, and Draco was sure that was the moment he had gone mad. 

Half-expecting her to pull back, testing him, he didn’t move. He wanted to move, to grab her hair and force his fingers through it to make the charm or potion wear off. He wanted to feel the curls bouncing on her hands. He wanted to bite her lip the way she bit when she was uncomfortable.

But Hermione didn’t pull away, and after a solid four seconds of soft lips pressed against his, of small warm hands placed gently on his chest, he gave up his reserve. He gave up and kissed her back with every bit of fear and feeling he could muster at the moments. 

The hand that had snaked its way around her back rose to her head and he tangled his finger in the reforming waves, feeling the soft edges he’d pushed out of her face so many times when she was sleeping in the common room. His secret hope, now a reality. He pushed her sharply against the wall, cradling her head in his hand to avoid injury. 

The abrupt movement caused a shark gasp to escape her mouth and he took the moment to swipe his tongue along her bottom lip, then taking the tender muscle between his teeth and slightly biting down. She gasped again, louder this time, and he placed his lips harshly back on her, pushing his tongue between her lips and into her mouth to taste her. 

He had been right about one thing; Hermione Granger tasted just as sweet as she smelled. Early Gray tea and Honey; all like he expected. 

The hand that had lingered on her shoulder now impulsively moved to her waist to draw himself slower to where she was pressed against the wall. It seemed Hermione’s hands had a mind of their own as well as he felt fingers entangle themselves in her hair, pulling him closer, and earring a low, guttural noise from his throat that poured directly into her mouth.

Hermione gasped again, but only used her hands in his hair to pull him closer.

Impossibly closer. 

He still didn’t dare pull her flush against him, afraid that any friction below the wait, even just a brush of pink taffeta fabric, would send him into a full out frenzy he wouldn't return from. He’d never return from it, and never remember what happened while he was in it. 

And he wanted to fucking remeber everythng about this. 

He wanted to remember the sound of her gasps as he pulled her by the waist to stand taller, closing the distance between their heights as he forced her onto her tiptoes. He wanted to remember the feeling and taste of her tongue sweeping past his and between his lips for her turn to tortue his mouth. He wanted to remember the feel of her hair under his fingers, and the way hers felt tangled in his. 

He wanted to remember the way Hermione Granger felt as she kissed him, he wanted to remember it forever. 

But it stopped far too near where it started. 

Her hands still tangled in his hair, and her head still angled up to his. Their lips retreated and she opened her eyes to look up at him. Grey searched brown for any signs of regret, shame, fear, anger, anything except what he saw. 

Light and warmth started back at him plain as day, and it was almost enough to distract from the way one of her hands detangled from his hair and slapped him lightly across the cheek. 

He huffed, sure that it meant she had actually regretted it. Sure that her slap had been intended to be painful, but she was too confused and flustered to accentuate force. He’d ruined his chance, like he ruined moth wings those days. His change to at least prove to her he wasn’t on the dark side, proved he could be trusted. He’d ruined it, he was sure. 

Light couldn't be with dark. That was the ruke, Grey didn't exist like he had said he would prove to her when she’d given him the change. Light Hermoine Granger wouldn't be sincere with Dark Draco Malfoy like that. They were night and day, destined to not be seen together. 

He sighed, looking down and avoiding her eyes, trying to tease his way out of the sticky situation he’d created. “I thought you said I wouldn't get slapped” he tried to say smugly, his intention was lost behind his fear that seeped in his voice as he thought this was ending for good.

She smiled up at him brightly, her eyes glowing as the moon from the window hit her face. It was real, once again toppling the assumption he’d been making in his head.

“That was for taking so long”.

Then pulling him by the tie so he was forced to lean down, she kissed him again. 

For the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy felt light. 

Night and Day often follow after each other as a pair.


End file.
